


Dragon Age Origins: Vigilant and Virtuous

by AdrianDaedra



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins, Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Action/Adventure, Blood and Gore, Dark Fantasy, F/F, F/M, Fantasy, Romance, Sexual Content, Slow Burn, Some Fluff, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-14
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:14:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 20
Words: 65,797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26998045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AdrianDaedra/pseuds/AdrianDaedra
Summary: A sickly girl and a broken young man find themselves torn from the lives they once knew. And when the world delivers yet another crushing blow, a guardian must rise to their need. A man plagued with darkness and tragedy himself, must guide these young heroes to their ultimate destiny, and must ally with some of the most unlikely sorts, all in an effort to save Ferelden from the greatest evil it has ever known...
Relationships: Leliana/Female Mahariel (Dragon Age), Morrigan/OC - Vlad
Kudos: 2





	1. Cast/Characters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, awesome readers! I hope you are having a wonderful day and week! 
> 
> To give some backstory, I had been wanting to write something that I found impactful. I had always found writers and fanfic writers to be inspirational in how they took pre-established writings used them as un-molded clay to make an entirely new world from them. This project started off as me simply putting thoughts down onto paper, and later turned into something much more. I had always been a huge, longtime fan of the Elder Scrolls and Dragon Age franchises, and a fairly recent adopter of the Castlevania franchise, from which I derive much inspiration for this work. I decided ultimately to place this story in the world of Dragon Age because of how real it seemed to me, and while the world of Elder Scrolls is absolutely amazing in its own way, cat and lizard people don't exactly play into the illusion of reality. 
> 
> I have already begun work on this project the past few months now, and hope to continue to foster this story to its end here. But a story is nothing without its characters, and with this I hope to:
> 
> Build off of inspirational foundations from pre-established characters in other forms of literature, and do justice to characters that already exist within the world of Dragon Age and the Elder Scrolls franchises respectively. One thing that might have struck you as odd is the fact that I listed some characters as OC's even though they were clearly not created by me, namely Dracula. This is because while the properties he comes from exist in many different forms with this incarnation, I seek to blend him, and his story as seamlessly as possible into the world of Thedas. As for the other two main characters, they are as any other warden is, wet clay waiting to be molded. 
> 
> All of these goals are ambitious, but that is why I want and need the help of the community's **_constructive_** criticism. Now, I don't want what I said to come off hostile, I simply demand a certain quality to the criticism. As in: It can't be a criticism that has no weight or no valid argument to accompany it. Any criticism that is missing these crucial qualities will be ignored. As a note: I know that there might be many small grammatical errors within some of the writings, this will be corrected but it is a matter some time. 
> 
> Finally, I will give one last note: There will be titles of songs listed in the text. Do not be alarmed, this is planned and is there to give suggestions as to some recommend reading music. Don't worry I will try to keep it as un-obscure as possible. You may listen at your own leisure, but I do strongly recommend listening as it does provide substantial atmosphere.
> 
> And with that, I will leave you to the reading!

**Warden Jasmine Mahariel**

Character song: Born This Way - Lady Gaga

**Warden Marcus Cousland**

Character song: Sovngarde Song 2016 - Miracle of Sound

**Silus Alucard Cronvist/Vlad Liaison of the Grey Warden Order**

Character song: The Wicked - Blues Saraceno

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

**Warden Alistair Theirin**

Character song: Welcome to the Black Parade - My Chemical Romance

**Lay Sister Leliana**

Character song: Simple Joys of Maidenhood - Vanessa Redgrave, Lee Herschberg

**Morrigan The Witch of the Wilds**

Character song: Black Magic Woman - Santana

**Sten: The Qunari Warrior**

Character song: No Limits - Royal Deluxe

**Zevran Arainai: Antivan Crows Assassin**

Character song: Tonight - Enrique Iglesias

**Senior Enchanter Wynne of the Ferelden Mage Circle**

Character song: Castle - Halsey

**Sten: the Golem**

Character song: Mr. Roboto - Styx

**Gerard: The Dog**

Character song: California Love - 2Pac, Roger, Dr. Dre

**Oghren: Just Oghren**

Character song: Achy Breaky Heart - Billy Ray Cyrus


	2. Prologue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Act I: So Begins the Journey of Tragedy and Adventure

**Song Choice: Sovngarde – Jeremy Soule**

It was finally time, here, in Sovngarde, Shor’s Hall of Valor in the distance, side by side with the greatest nord heros of old, Hakon One-Eye, Gormlaith Golden-Hilt, and Felldir the Old I would strike down the world eater himself as only I could. Alduin would fall and would never again threaten anything I know or love. Truthfully though, I would give anything to smell a homecooked sweetroll again, or simply find myself on an early-morning hunt, looking for something to kill while the dew on the grass was still cold. I wanted to go home, with destiny no longer tying me to saving this world, maybe start a farm, become a teacher, fulfil myself with the mundane. Take enjoyment on the evening stroll through the city feeling the cool autumn air gently wisp past my greying beard. I wanted all of these things, but first I must strike the final blow against this creature who has caused so much anguish, so much destruction, and was the final bastion between me, and what lied in wait for me on the other side of my destiny, the beautiful mundane…

I walked aggressively towards the weakened dragon’s neck, knowing that all of the ancestors were looking on to see how this prophecy of legend would end. I drove my sword down with as much force as I had could ever muster. He cried out loudly in pain and screamed,

“Zu’u unslaad! Zu’u nis oblaan!”

He started to glow, and I awaited the familiar flow of energy that would soon envelope my body. But this was different, it was like nothing I had ever seen. Alduin, defiant to the very end, reached out his soul out and threw my mortal body into the very abyss it was being inextricably drawn into, the abyss of Atherieus, the abyss of Sovngarde. And for some odd reason as I plummeted lower and lower, I was calm, knowing that this was how my journey was to end. There was truly no reason to cry, nor scream for joy, for it was inevitable now. Although, the last thought to come to my mind was of myself, leaving the Bannered Mare Inn in Whiterun, and letting that cool autumn breeze flow though my hair, ah, what a life it could have been…


	3. Origins Part I: Curiosity Killed the Dalish

**Legal Disclaimer: All credit as to the depiction of copyrighted characters in this work of fiction are owned by the following and not myself: Zenimax Media Inc, Bethesda Game Studios, Electronic Arts, BioWare, Universal City Studios, The BBC, and Konami respectively.**

**\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

**Song Choice : The Chantry’s Hubris – Inon Zur**

**“** And so, the Golden City blackened

With each step you take in my Hall.

Marvel at perfection, for it is fleeting.

You have brought Sin to Heaven

And doom upon all the world.”

-Canticle of Threnodies 8:13

“The Chantry teaches us that it was the hubris of mankind that brought darkspawn into our world. The mages had sought to usurp Heaven, but instead, they destroyed it. They were cast out, twisted and cursed by their own corruption. They returned as monsters, the very first of the darkspawn. They became a blight upon all the lands, unstoppable and relentless. The dwarven kingdoms were the first to fall, and from the Deep Roads the darkspawn drove at us again and again, until finally we neared annihilation.

Until the Grey Wardens came. Men and women from every race, warriors and mages, barbarians and kings… the Grey Wardens sacrificed everything to stem the tide of darkness…and prevailed. It has been four centuries since that victory and we have kept our vigil. We have watched and waited for the darkspawn to return. But those who once called us heroes…have forgotten. We are few now, and our warnings have been ignored for too long. It may even be too late, for I have seen with my own eyes what lies on the horizon. Maker be with us all...”

_\--Warden-Commander Duncan_

**\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

**Song Choice: Welcome to the Jungle – Guns-N-Roses**

It was not long before Tamlen stopped the panicked shems in their tracks. One of them falling to the soil at the sight of him with his bow ready to fire.

“It’s a Dalish!” The fallen, nearly breathless human exclaimed while his companions scurried to his side.

“And you three are somewhere you shouldn’t be.” Tamlen responded sternly, bow still completely drawn.

“Let us pass elf, you have no right to stop us!” Another one of the three shems commanded.

“No? We will see about that, won’t we?” Tamlen said confidently itching to release his arrow.

I thought that now was the time to step out of the shadows and greet these scared, little shemlen at Tamlen’s side, with my bow drawn of course.

Just then, Tamlen looked at me and said,

“You’re just in time, I found these… humans lurking in the bushes. Bandits, no doubt.”

One of the other humans looked up worriedly and said quickly,

“We aren’t bandits, I swear! Please don’t hurt us!”

“You shemlen are pathetic, it is hard to believe you ever drove us from our homeland.” Tamlen said in an overtly cocky tone.

“W-we never done nothing to you Dalish! We didn’t even know this forest was yours!” One of the shems said in a helpless voice

“This forest isn’t ours fool. You’ve stumbled too close to our camp. You shemlen are like vermin—we can’t trust you not to make mischief. What do you say lethalin? What should we do with them?” Tamlen asked me.

“I think we should find out what they are doing here.” I responded with genuine interest. Rarely do shems come uninvited.

“Does it matter? Whether it be hunting or banditry, we’ll need to move camp if we let them live.” Tamlen said in a somewhat angered tone.

“I-look… we didn’t come here to be trouble. We just found a cave…” One of the humans confessed

“Yes, a cave! With ruins like I’ve never seen! We thought there might be, uh…”

“Treasure. So, you’re more akin to common thieves than actual bandits” Tamlen interrupted

“Ha, I would like to see these “ruins”.” I said, they must think us to be mindless idiots to believe that. None of the scouts or the Keeper had ever told me of any mysterious ruins in a cave, not to mention I had never even seen it.

“As would I. I have never heard of ruins in the parts” Tamlen said.

“I..I have proof! Here…we found this just inside the entrance.” One of the humans stepped forward and stuttered out, handing Tamlen a curious stone.

“This stone has carvings…is this elvish? _Written_ elvish?” Said Tamlen curiously

“There’s more in the ruins! We didn’t get very far in, though…” One of the shems complained

“How, exactly do you know that’s elvish Tamlen?” I inquired.

“I’ve seen something similar on the Keeper’s scrolls…” He informed, turning to me.

“And this is all you found? Why, didn’t you look for more?” Tamlen asked the human who handed him the stone.

“There was a demon! It was huge, with black eyes! Thank the Maker we were able to out-run it!”

Tamlen scoffed.

  
“A demon? Where is this cave?”

“Just off to the west, I think. There’s a cave in the rock face, and a huge hole just inside.”

“Well? Do you trust them? Shall we let them go?” Tamlen once again asked me

I thought for a moment, they seemed to already be frightened enough to at least seem genuine, and I was also never quick to kill, even shemlen. And although it was against my better judgement, I decided to spare them and hope they were at least decent shemlen.

“You’ve frightened them enough. They won’t be bothering us.”

Tamlen once again turned his attention to the frightened humans.

“Run along then, shems… and don’t come back until we Dalish have moved on.”

Excited they had escaped with their lives twice in one day, the human’s happily exclaimed,

“Of course! Thank you! Thank you!” As they ran in the opposite direction though the forest.

Tamlen put away his bow, turned to me, and asked,

“Well, shall we see if there’s any truth to their story? These carvings make me curious.”

  
“Yes, of course I would. But shouldn’t the Keeper know about something like this?”

“She might be interested in these carvings, but let’s see if there’s anything more before we get excited. Besides, were already here. Now, they said it was to the west…” Tamlen’s voice trailed and he looked in the direction of the human’s origin.

  
We then made our way on the forest path leading to where this “cave” was. The carved stone the humans gave us was quite interesting, I was more anxious to learn what this stone’s carvings said than anything. We made our way through a couple of wolves feasting upon a dead halla cutting them down as was unfortunately necessary. A few minutes later we had made our way completely to the cave entrance. Upon seeing the cave and the ruined pillars that lie just outside of its craggy entrance, Tamlen said asked,

“This must be the cave then. I don’t recall seeing this before, do you?”

“No, I don’t. Let’s check it out.” I responded

“My thoughts exactly. With luck, we will find something inside that will make us clan heroes!” Tamlen responded.

The small crag entrance opened up into a large corridor upon entering the cave. At the end of the large corridor was the ruins that the shems spoke of. They seemed to be telling the truth on at least that much.

“So, it seems the shems were telling the truth, but these ruins, they seem more human than elven.” Tamlen commented.

I looked at the pillars and walls that awaited us up ahead in the corridor there were great tree roots growing down though the underground corridor and an opening into what seemed to be the shem ruins directly in front of us. This was a most odd place already, firstly, I had no idea that this cave even existed in this area. Secondly, the stone the humans gave us apparently had _written_ elven which is extremely rare and very old. Thirdly, that same stone had come from what seemed to be, human ruins. All very odd, and I was keen to solve this mystery here and now.

We proceeded to the ruins and took a few steps inside, it seemed we were being watched, because two giant spiders dropped from the ceiling and in front of us. Tamlen commanded me behind him while he drew his Dalish blade and charged in while I stayed back and shot relentlessly with my bow. On an upswing, Tamlen cut out one of its massive fangs, which earned a loud hiss of pain from it, and turned his blade into a reverse grip and stabbed the spider right on top of its skull killing it instantly. It was my duty to kill the other bestial spider, and I did so with a few well-placed arrows though those creepy eyes of theirs.

After dealing with the ambushing pair of spiders, we proceeded though a door that took us into another, much more well-preserved chamber. _This is getting more and more odd by the minute._ I thought to myself. The ruins were not only here, but were more preserved than any other ruins I have explored in my entire life, and I would have never known of their existence if it was not for the shemlen. I still did not have any answered as to why there was elven in ruins that were most definitely human in origin. We proceeded though the corridors carefully, watching out for more spiders and more importantly, traps. Ruins like this were bound to have traps laid everywhere. But there was a creeping feeling the deeper we got, it started to become heavier, almost foreboding like there was some form of dark presence in these mysterious ruins.

It was not long before we stumbled upon something completely out of the ordinary, it was a statue placed in one of the hallways. But not one I would have expected to see in human ruins. It looked somewhat familiar but I could not quite place where I had seen it before.

“I can’t believe this. You recognize this statue, don’t you?” Tamlen asked

“It’s worn, but it looks vaguely familiar.” I responded truthfully

“Back when our people lived in Arlathan, statues like these honored the Creators. When the humans enslaved us, much of that old lore was lost.” Tamlen informed

“I’m confused, these ruins look like human architecture… But with a statue of our people. Can these ruins really date back to the time of Arlathan?” Tamlen questioned.

“It’s interesting to be sure. So much of our past is lost to us.” I responded

“I’d never have guessed that ancient elves lived here! With humans!” Tamlen said excitedly.

We then saw there was a door behind us, and decided to proceed into whatever room that door guarded on the other side. But as we approached the door the that foreboding, heavy feeling became much more powerful, now I was convinced there was something in these ruins that did not want us here, at all. Just as we were about to open the door, poison gas poured out of holes in the walls, forcing us to cover our faces. Skeletons started rising from the floor to attack us, and it was at that moment that it hit me. These ruins were indeed haunted and something was trying to keep us from going any further, maybe the shems claim of demons was, in fact, true as well. These walking dead drew their rusted blades and moved in for the attack. I had no idea how to slay undead, but if I could not kill them as I would anything else then we were surely dead. With quick thinking, I made a pinning shot to the exposed knee cap, buckling the skeleton into a kneel and as he looked up at me with his cold dead eye sockets, I drew my arrow back as far as I could and placed the arrow right above the nose cavity. Then the skeleton collapsed to the floor I assumed it had “killed it” if it could even kill and undead. ˆthen turned my attention to Tamlen who was still locked in combat with the other risen dead. I saw the skeleton come down with a hard-overhead strike which Tamlen was able to block with his shield, and counter with a swift cutting strike to the neck and took the skeleton’s head clean off.

We both breathed quite heavily after that encounter and looked at each other and nodded, silently confirming we were both okay. But we both knew that whatever was possessing those corpses desperately wanted to keep us from entering. So, whatever was behind that door was sure to be more trouble. Our fears were confirmed when we opened the door on guard only to see a creature that…well _resembled_ a bear. It had giant quill spines growing out of its exposed fleshy back, face and legs, almost looking as if the quills were infecting the skin. I looked directly at Tamlen who was standing in front of me and ferociously charged at him, tackling him to the floor with great force. Tamlen lost control of his sword and was struggling to grab it off the floor and block the bears relentless bites and strikes. I kicked the sword over to him as I pulled back my arrows beginning to fire at horrifying creature before me. It was big so I made sure that every arrow made its mark. When Tamlen reacquired his sword, he made a bold slash at the right leg, severing one of its tendons. He then blocked a strike would shatter his shield, and as the creature came down for the death-dealing blow. Tamlen lifted his sword up, and as the creature came down the sword ran through its neck. Sending it off its mark and roaring in pain before it finally collapsed.

Panicked, Tamlen jumped to his feet as soon as he could and exclaimed,

“By the Creators! Wha-what was that thing?!”

To which I realized I could offer no answer, I glanced Tamlen up and down, he was very bloody, with scratches littered all over. But he paid them no mind, anxious to see what this terrible thing was guarding. We proceeded on into the room, and I immediately noticed it was far more ornate than the rest of these ruins, and was in better condition as well. It looked well…untouched, for centuries even. I then noticed the centerpiece of this chamber, it was emitting some kind of feeling, but I could not place what just yet. Upon observing it more I noticed it was a beautifully crafted mirror, looking elvish in style, just as the statue had before it. It had two statues that were adorning each side and a golden frame, with curious writing all around it, quite remarkable.

“What is this? It looks elvish, just like that statue in the hall. More evidence that there was some kind of elven presence here, long ago.” Tamlen inquired.

“It’s a mirror of some kind but I feel something emitting off of it, like some invisible power.” I said

“Let’s take a closer look.” Tamlen responded

“I wonder what this writing is for? Maybe this isn’t—hey, did you see that? I think something moved _inside_ the mirror” Tamlen said.

“ _Inside_ the mirror? Let me see.” I said curiously

“Look! Don’t you see it?! There it is again!” Tamlen exclaimed excitedly.

It was then that I started to hear…something coming from the mirror, and noises don’t usually come from mirrors.

“Hey, do you feel that? I think it knows we’re here. I just need to take a closer look…”

Then, Tamlen looked deeply into the mirror almost trans-like.

“Its…showing me places. I can see…some kind of city…underground?” Tamlen said in a bewildered tone, all the while I looked at him worriedly.

“And… there’s a great blackness…”

“It…it saw me! Help! I can’t look away!” Tamlen exclaimed

Just as the mirror shot massive bout of white energy from itself and blasted me across the room where I fell unconscious.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I looked up in a complete daze to see…someone above me, my vision was clouded, but I could hear what they said perfectly.

“Can you hear me? I am…very sorry.”

Just then I felt myself passing into unconsciousness once again and was too weak to resist.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I awoke in a familiar place, the medicinal tent, back at camp, this is where the healers and the Keeper would do their good work. This meant I somehow mysteriously arrived back at camp, when I was sure I had been in the presence of the mirror only moments ago, and feeling relatively well except for my throbbing head. I looked to the corner of the tent and saw my belongings, put them on and went out to see what, exactly had gone on in my absence, and how I arrived back here.

I stepped out of the tent only to be greeted by the bright sun, shining through the trees. Which did not feel good to my still tender head at all. I then blocked the sun from my eyes, and approached Feneral, another of camp’s members.

“You’re awake! You’ve got the gods own luck, Jasmine. You’re back at camp. Everyone is worried sick about you. How do you feel?” Feneral asked, obviously concerned.

“Worried. Where is Tamlen?” I asked commandingly

I saw Feneral’s eyes become somber and he replied,

“We don’t know. The shem who brought you here saw no sign of him.”

“There was a human?!” I asked, surprised.

“Yes. A shem brought you back two days ago now. You don’t remember him?”

“We drove off some shems in the forest, me and Tamlen.”

“Well, I doubt you could have driven this one off. He was a Grey Warden and appeared out of nowhere with you slung over his shoulder. You were delirious with fever. He said he found you outside a cave in the forest, unconscious and alone. He left you here and ran off again. The Keeper’s been using the old magics to heal you.”

“Is anyone looking for Tamlen?” I asked full of questions

“Of course! Most of the hunters are off looking for him right now. But the Keeper wanted to talk to you as soon as you awoke. Stay here—I’ll go get her.” Feneral said and left to find the Keeper.  
  
It was not long before I looked behind me to see the clan Keeper approaching me.

“I see you are awake, da’len. It is fortunate that Duncan found you when he did… I know not what dark power held you, it nearly bled the life from you. It was difficult even for my magic to keep you alive.” The Keeper said somberly

  
“What happened to us Keeper?” I asked

“I know only that the Grey Warden found you in front of a strange cave, sick and alone. Duncan thought there may have been darkspawn creature inside the cave. Is that true?” The Keeper asked gravely.

“All I know, was that there were walking corpses and other strange monsters inside the cave.”

  
“Walking corpses, dark magic, but not darkspawn. I know not what the other strange creatures might have been. What else did you find? What is the last thing you remember?” The Keeper questioned of me.

“A mirror, Tamlen touched it.” I responded.

“A mirror? And it caused all this? I have never heard of such a thing in all the lore we collected.”

She sighed, turned away from me and said,

“I was hoping for some answers when you woke, but there are only more questions. And Tamlen remains missing. He is more important than any lore that might be in these ruins. If he is as sick as you were, his condition is grave indeed. Duncan returned to the cave to search for darkspawn, but we cannot rely on him to look for Tamlen. We must go ourselves, and quickly. Do you feel well enough to show us the way, Jasmine? Without you we will not find it.”

“I’m up to the task Keeper, I feel fine.” I responded.

She smiled at me and said,

“I am relieved to hear it. I am ordering the clan to pack the camp so we can go north. Take Merrill with you to the cave. Find Tamlen if you can, but do so swiftly.”

I was confused as to why I should risk yet another one of the clan’s members on this hunt.

“Why do you want me to take Merrill?” I asked, confused

“Merrill knows a degree of my magic. Tamlen’s chances of surviving the journey back are greater with her help. I also wish for Merrill to see this cave and mirror. She has a sense for these things, and could shed light on the nature of this illness.”

“Alright then, take Merrill to the cave and find Tamlen, I understand.” I responded dutifully.

“Go quickly for Tamlen’s life hangs in the balance.”

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I approached the elf named Merrill and when she noticed me, she spoke.

“The Keeper said I am to accompany you back to those caves. As her apprentice I may see something you missed. But our main objective is to find Tamlen, of course. We must make haste; he may not have much time.”  
  


“How much did the Keeper tell you about my situation?” I asked

“Enough to pique my interest…and my concern. You can explain the rest on the way. Let us make haste while daylight lasts.”

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

We made our way through the forest where me and Tamlen met the humans. I was so worried about him, I felt horrible that I could have directly led to his death, I needed to find him and make sure he was okay, I owed him that much. Me and Merrill proceeded down the path until we made eye contact with a couple of short, stocky creatures, that were disgusting and…dark. There was no other way to explain it. They pulled out their bows and tried to fire at us. Merrill used her staff to freeze the hand off one of the smaller creatures and then froze its head, seemingly killing it. I dove behind a fallen log and shot it in its neck causing it to choke on black blood. When I got to my feet I carefully went over and examined it. It had pointed ears almost like an elf, and an unnaturally wide mouth with many serrated teeth covering every inch. Its body was gilded in scales like fish, and its skin was a sickly green. I then saw Merrill approach me, panicked.

“What were those things? were those darkspawn?” Merrill asked nervously

“That would make some sense now that you mention it.” I responded

“I’ve never seen anything like them! You can practically smell the evil on them. Where did they come from? Were they here before?”

“Maybe the mirror had something to do with their presence here.”

“What would darkspawn have to do with our people? The stories say Arlathan fell long before the darkspawn appeared. Well, we’ll find out soon enough. Let’s hope we don’t find any more of these monsters. But…before we go, are you all right? Were you hurt during the fight?”

“I’m fine, why do you ask?” I responded with a hint of frustration in my voice, we needed to keep moving not moping about how _I’m_ feeling, we should be worried about how Tamlen is feeling, if he is even alive.

“It’s just that you’re…quite pale. You look a bit feverish, in fact.” She said with concern

“I’m _fine._ ” I said sternly.

“Well, I’ll keep an eye on you. You’ve only just recovered from your illness.” Merrill said.

We made our way up the path towards the cave a bit more, coming upon an abandoned campsite that was surely not here when me and Tamlen arrived.

“I wonder whose camp this is? Do you remember it being here?” Merrill asked

“No, this wasn’t here. It’s fresh.” I responded.

“The Grey Warden said he was returning to the cave, perhaps this is his camp. If so, he is not here now. And we’ve seen so sign of Tamlen. Maybe we should…”  
  


“Wait… do you hear that?”  
  


I paid closer attention at her beckoning and heard… nothing. Nothing that resembled the usual sounds that would be heard in the forest, chirping, singing, scraping, calls, or pecking. It was completely quiet, highly unnatural.

“No forest creatures. It’s too quiet” I said in recognition.

“Exactly. The forest is too…still. Something’s in the air…something unnatural.” Merrill said forebodingly.

“Careful Merrill, I don’t like this at all.:.” I warned

“It seems whatever you woke up inside that cave has…spread outside. The sooner we find this cave, and Tamlen, the sooner we can leave. Take us there quickly.” Merrill commanded.

As we moved up the path towards the cave, we encountered more apparent darkspawn and dealt with them easier this time.

We made our way to the cave entrance, and I hesitated entering inside again, all these ruins did, was symbolize my failure to help Tamlen, not to mention my current condition. We entered finally and made our way to the first corridor.

“So, these are the ruins? Interesting. They’re definitely of human origin. Yet elven artifacts are scattered among them. Nothing explains these monsters, though.” Merrill said, looking at the dead darkspawn in the corridor.

“But we must find Tamlen—or what’s left of him. I can’t imagine he’s still alive with all of these creatures about.” Merrill said

  
At first, I was angry, but what she said rung true, and she was only speaking my thoughts into existence. It would take a miracle from the gods to find Tamlen still alive amongst all of this chaos. But I simply could not give up hope just yet.

“Maybe they took him hostage?” I asked

“Maybe. Let’s just hope he’s here…somewhere.”

We ventured though the ruins and, as expected, found more monsters littering the halls. This was not surprising considering this was their apparent origin. But we dispatched them relatively quick. We made our way to where I remember the mirror room being. And opened the door. There were bodies many of the monsters strewn about the floor, and a tall human man with black hair turned away from me, looking at the mirror. He turned to me and said in a deep, wise voice.

“So, you were the one fighting darkspawn. I thought I heard combat. You’re the elf I found wandering the forest, aren’t you? I’m surprised you have recovered.” The tall human said  
  


“If you heard the fighting, why didn’t you help us?” I responded somewhat annoyed

“I would have, had I not been battling them myself. Not all the kills here were yours, as you can see. My name is Duncan, and it’s a pleasure to finally meet you. The last time we spoke, you were barely conscious.” He said.

“Andaran atish’an, Duncan of the Grey Wardens. I am Merrill, keeper’s apprentice.” Merrill said.

“Your Keeper did not send you after me, did she? I told her I would be in no danger.” Duncan asked

“We are looking for our brother Tamlen, actually.” I responded

“So, you and your friend Tamlen both entered this cave? And you saw this mirror?” Asked Duncan.

“Yes, Tamlen touched the mirror, and afterwards I blacked out.” I replied.

“I see. That’s… unfortunate. The Grey Wardens have seen artifacts like this mirror before, it is Tevinter in origin, used for communication. Over time some of them simply…break. They become filled with the same taint as the darkspawn do. Tamlen’s touch must have released it…It’s what made you sick—and Tamlen, too, I presume.” He said

“Is it possible to “fix” this illness?” I asked genuinely curious

“Unfortunately, no. it will taint all those who come near it, now.” Duncan said gravely

“I do not fear this sickness. The Keeper knows how to cure it.” Merrill said confidently.

“She may have weakened it, but she _cannot_ cure it. Your recovery is only temporary. I can still sense the sickness in you, and it is spreading. Look within yourself and you will see.” Duncan explained.

“Perhaps there is…something to what you say.” I said with a heavy heart.

“Confirm it with your Keeper later, if you like. For now, we must deal with the mirror…it is a danger.”

Duncan climbed the stairs leading up to the magical mirror and drew his sword. He then brought his sword down with great force and shattered the mirror completely.

“It is done. Now let’s leave this cursed place. I must speak with the Keeper immediately regarding your cure.” Duncan said with finality.

“What about Tamlen?!” I asked, shocked.

“There is nothing we can do now.” He responded

“I’m still alive! He could be too!” I exclaimed

“Let me be very clear; There is nothing you can do for him. He has been tainted for three days now, unaided. Though your Keeper’s healing arts, and your own willpower, you did not die. But Tamlen has no chance. Trust me, when I say that he is gone. Now, we should return.” Duncan said

“Won’t there at the very least be a body?” I asked

“The darkspawn would have taken it.” He responded.

“Taken it where? What would they do with it?” Merrill inquired.

“Darkspawn are cruel creatures, and it’s best to leave it at that. I’m…sorry.” Duncan said empathetically

“Very well. Let us head back to camp.” I said.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When we returned to camp, the Keeper approached us and spoke.

“I am relived you have returned, Jasmine! And I did not expect to see you again so soon, Duncan.”

“I was not expecting to return so soon either, Keeper.” Duncan responded.

“Dare I ask of Tamlen? What did you find of him Jasmine?”

“The Grey Warden says we will find nothing.” I said

“I see. Merrill, what about the mirror? Did you bring anything back?”

“I can answer that, Keeper. I destroyed the mirror.”

“I intended to use it to find a cure for this mysterious illness. I trust you had goof reasons for your actions?”

“There is much to discuss, Keeper. I have learned a great deal since I was last here.” Duncan responded

“Let us speak privately in my aravel then, Duncan. Merrill, warn the hunters, if there are darkspawn about, I want the clan prepared.” The Keeper commanded.

“Ma nuvenin Keeper. Right away.” Merrill replied, as she walked off to do her duties.

“Da’len Jasmine, allow me some time to speak with Duncan. Seek us out at my aravel later, and we can discuss your cure.”

“Very well, Keeper.” I said.

“One last thing before you go, Tell Hahren Paivel what has occurred. He now has the sad task of preparing a service for the dead. Follow me Duncan, I’m eager to hear what you have to say.”

I walked over to Hahren Paivel and he asked me sadly.

“So, you return with the Grey Warden, but without Tamlen. What happened, Jasmine? Is he truly lost to us?”

“The Grey Warden says he is, but I’m still not sure.” I answered truthfully.

“Even if he is not, we must leave soon. To think I’d live to see this… It seems the will of the Creators that I sing the dirge for those I held in my arms as babes. I think I know why our immortal ancestors would sleep.”

Paivel then turned away from me and looked towards the camp pyre, and said.

_“Swiftly do stars burn a path across the sky, hastening to place one last kiss upon your eye. Tenderly land enfolds you in slumber, softening the rolling thunder. Dagger now sheathed, bow no longer tense. During this, your last hour, only silence._

“The Keeper wants you to prepare a service for Tamlen.”

“Of course. We’ve no body to return to the soil, but we shall still sing for Tamlen. The Creators must come to guide him to the Beyond. Tell the Keeper, it shall be done, before the clan is ready to move on.”

“Thank you Hahren.” I said

“I ask only one thing, if I may. This… Grey Warden. You’ve met him now, yes? Is he a good man?”

“He has saved my life and as such is a friend of the clan.” I said proudly

“Interesting. What is it he talks to the Keeper about, I wonder? Perhaps you should go and ask.”

“I shall.”

“Of course. May the gods guide your path da’len?”

I bade Hahren Paivel farewell and made my way over to where Duncan and the Keeper were standing. I approached them and Duncan decided to speak.

“Your Keeper and I have spoken, and have come to an arrangement that concerns you. My order is in need of help, you are in need of a cure. When I leave this place, I hope you will join me. You would make an excellent Grey Warden.” Duncan explained

“I would be honored, but how exactly did this come about?” I asked

“The darkspawn taint courses through your veins. That you recovered at all is remarkable. But eventually the taint will sicken and kill you, or worse. The Grey Warden Order can prevent that but that would mean joining us.” He said.

“Will I be able to return to my clan?” I asked

“We do not know. But we could not watch you suffer. The Grey Warden offers you a way to survive.”

“You must understand, this is not simply charity on my part. I would not offer this if I thought you did not have the makings of a Grey Warden. Let me be clear; You will likely never return here. We go to fight the darkspawn, a battle that will take us far from your clan, but we need you, and others like you that have these same, “makings”.

“Then I accept this privilege Duncan, if you’ll have me.” I said confidently.

“I welcome you to the Order, it is rare to have a Dalish in our ranks but they have always served with distinction.” Said Duncan

“I know that you will do your clan proud Jasmine. Take this necklace, it is your heritage and will protect you against the darkness to come.” The Keeper said proudly.

“A valuable gift. So…are you ready to leave? I have wagon camp stationed a couple of miles east of here we will make our way there and use the wagon to depart to the Fortress of Ostagar.”

“ I would like to say my goodbyes to every here if that is okay.”

“We do have much ground to cover…but I cannot deny you that. Say your farewells and let us be off.”

I embraced everyone as Duncan waited for my signal that I was ready. Merrill only looked on as I left and a sad look graced her face then. I knew this would most likely be the very last time I ever had contact with my clan, but I was ready, I had to be, this was the only way forward, given to me by the Creators. I gave Duncan the signal, and met him and we exited the camp together and I followed him though the forest to his wagon.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When we found the wagon, I could hear rummaging. It was a man going through the Duncan’s belongings, I got my bow and started to pull an arrow when Duncan raised his hand in front of my face and signaled me to lower the bow. He walked up to the man who had not seen him yet. And asked.

  
“What are you looking for?”

  
“Ah! Maker, you’re finally back!” The man said as he hugged him.

“No. Wait, I’m not happy with you. You left me here for three sodding days!”

“Yes, but I left you with ample food, and water.”  
  
“Do you realize how cold it gets in this forest Duncan? You don’t know how many times I tried to escape and just…run away! But first it was the howling wolves, then it was the fact that I still had hope you would come back and we could leave this blasted place, and then I contemplated just taking the wagon and leaving but the plowing horse wouldn’t budge, so I had to just sit here and wait for you! And who is this?!”

  
He was a young-looking man with blonde hair and blue eyes. He was wearing good clothes, although they were dirtied. Assumedly from his time in the forest. He seemed to have a peculiar companion with him as well, a dog of some kind, a breed which I had never seen before.

“This is Jasmine Mahariel. She is to become a Warden, just as you are.” Duncan replied

“Well how do you do? Seems Duncan dragged you into the same deathtrap he did me?” he said sarcastically and held his hand out towards me in some gesture which made me jump, thinking he might pull a knife out.

“Go on. It’s just a handshake, trust me, I’m not going to hurt you, at least not while we are in the same “boat” you and I.” He comforted, seeing the visible distress on my face.

“My name is Marcus Cousland, and this walking muscle here is Gerard, my mabari warhound, pleased to meet you” He said introducing the himself and the dog, who walked up to, and sniffed me for a moment. He seemed to decide that I was not a threat to him, and smiled up at me with slobber running down the sides of his mouth.

I proceeded to lift my hand to the young man called Marcus, and “shake” it although I did not understand the significance of this strange shem custom.

“Now, Duncan can we finally pack this stuff up and depart to Ostagar? I really have discovered a deep distaste for this forest in the past few days.” Marcus said, turning his attention to Duncan.

  
“Yes. We will be heading to Ostagar shortly.” Duncan replied, signaling us to begin loading our things onto the wagon.

  
After we packed up the things on the wagon me and the shem who called himself Marcus sat in the back with me, as Duncan sat in the front seat and beckoned the horse to move.

“Oh, now you move, pft…stupid horse.” Marcus mumbled, frustrated.


	4. Origins Part II: Born Again, of Betrayal.

I awoke feeling as refreshed as one could be after experiencing the nightly episode of night terrors. See, I have experienced night terrors since a very young age. My mother and father had even assumed I had been placed under some curse at birth. Over the years, they had many experienced mages come to Highever to see if it was truly a curse, and if not, see if there was anything that could be done to suppress my nightmares. They all unanimously said that these dreams were different in some way not the normal dreams or nightmare someone should have…although even _they_ did not know in what way. Now though? They were simply draining, and always seemed to be a little different, but the crucial detail s were always the same. The setting always seemed to be constant, but things would change and I always seemed to have the same goal in mind, slay the dragon, save the world. But...I was not about to let that bring me down—not today. It was the start of a new day, an important one at that, my elder brother was to carry the banner of my house to the south to fight the darkspawn threat, at the king’s orders, no less! How I wish I could be gallant knight, come to the rescue at the command of the king, just as my brother and father will do today. Sure, tourneys were fun, but mostly filled with men who, in a real fight, would be no more a challenge to their opponent than a toddler waving around a stick. But I will get my time, I’m sure of it… But I had to remember that today was not about me, it was about celebrating the achievements of my brother, saying goodbye to both him, and my father as they would be heading south. I would be lying if I said I was completely unworried for their safety though. These were darkspawn we are talking about, among the darkest, most cruel, and evil creatures to ever exist. They have brought entire kingdoms of old to their knees and separated many families forever, but not this family. Not the Couslands.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

After I had bathed and gotten dressed in my clothes that one of the servant girls had organized for me, I left to answer the summons of my father. I would not normally abide so easily, but today my father must be extremely stressed so I chose to listen well.

  
As I approached the Main Hall, I eavesdropped on a conversation that my father was having with someone, presumably Arl Rendon Howe.

“I trust, then, that your troops will be here shortly?” I heard my father say from behind the door. Rarely did I ever get to hear him when he was not aware of my presence, and was curious as to what he would be saying

“I expect they will start arriving tonight, and we can march tomorrow. I apologize for the delay, my lord. This is entirely my fault.” Said the other man. I confirmed it was Arl Rendon Howe indeed.

“No, no. The appearance of the darkspawn in the south has us all scrambling, doesn’t it? I only received the call from the king a few days ago, myself.” My father objected.

“I’ll send my eldest son off with my men. You and I will ride tomorrow, just like the old days!” Father added.

Arl Rendon Howe, and my Father, the great Bryce Cousland, had been friends for many years, and were more like brothers now. Rendon was around a lot when me and my brother, Fergus, were growing up, and we treated him as one would treat an uncle. He would always bring us neat gifts he found in the marketplace in Denerim, mostly exotic imports. Once time Rendon came over for a week’s vacation in summer and brought Fergus, who was older than I, an ornate chevalier sword, imported from Orlais, and me a puzzle box that was crafted in Kirkwall. But recently, he has been…distant. But I know that he has been busy with the recent situations in Denerim, and to demand more time of him would be selfish, as my mother would say.

“True. Though we both had less gray in our hair then. And we fought Orlesians, not…monsters.” Arl Howe said

My father laughed and replied,

“At least the smell will be the same!”

After my father said this, I decided I had had enough of hiding in the shadows and go out there and greet these two men. I was excited to see Rendon again. And I wanted to make sure I could spend as much time as possible with my father before his departure, which now seemed to be delayed.

“Oh, I’m sorry Marcus; I didn’t see you there. Howe, you remember my son?” Asked my father

“I see he has grown into a fine young man. Pleased to see you again, lad.” Rendon said and smiled at me.

“And you, Arl Howe.” I said as I respectfully bowed.

  
“You know, my daughter, Delilah, asked after you. Perhaps I should bring her next time.” Rendon said.

“I think I’d like that.” I said a little awkwardly, but nevertheless trying to keep my composure amongst these two respected men. 

“Good! She saw you at the last tourney and continues to go on, and on about your prowess as a warrior. I think you have an admirer, young man.” Rendon said presumptuously.

“At any rate, pup. I summoned you for a reason. While your brother and I are both away, I’m leaving you completely in charge of the castle.” 

I had been waiting for that sentence for nearly two decades now. I was finally getting my chance to prove myself! To be my own man! Immediately, ideas of what I would set the servants to work on, what I would need to attend to personally came flooding in. I hated that was the war in the south that finally was pressuring my father to make this decision, but I wasn’t about to try and dissuade him.

“I will do my best, father.”

“Good, then that is the best we can hope for. Only a token force is remaining here, and you must keep peace in the region. You know that they say about mice when the cat is away, yes?” My father asked.

“There is also someone you must meet. Please…show Duncan in.” My father said, commanding the guardsmen to open one of the doors behind him.

The guards opened the door into the main hall, and a taller man with tan skin and pulled up hair, and a full black beard came walking in. His armor and weapons were unique, I had never seen anything like it before, it looked… ancient, in some way.

“It is an honor to be within your halls, Teyrn Cousland.” Said Duncan.

“Your lordship, you didn’t mention that a Grey Warden would be present.” Said Rendon to my Father.

“Duncan arrived just recently, unannounced. Is there a problem?” My father asked.

“Of course not, but a guest of this stature demands certain protocols. I am…at a disadvantage.” Said Arl Howe, slightly embarrassed.

“We rarely have the pleasure of seeing one in person, that’s true. Pup, Brother Aldous taught you what the Grey Wardens are, I hope?” My father questioned me.

“Yes. They defeated the darkspawn long ago.” I responded

“Not permanently, I fear.” Duncan said.

“Without their warning of the darkspawn rising now, half of the nation could have been overrun before we had a chance to react.” My father added.

“Duncan is looking for recruits before joining us and his fellow wardens in the south. I believe he’s got his eye on Ser Gilmore.” Father informed.

  
“If I might be so bold, I would suggest your son also looks to be an excellent candidate.” Duncan subtly suggested.

My father positioned himself between me and Duncan, who up until this point were standing adjacent to one another. My father took his protective stance and said.

“Honor though that might be, this is one of my sons we are talking about.”

“Is there a reason I shouldn’t join them?” I asked curiously. Why wouldn’t my father want to join a highly respected, ancient order of darkspawn killers, whom have always served Ferelden faithfully.

“You did just finish saying the Grey Wardens are heroes, old friend.” Rendon broke in.

“I’ve not so many children that I’ll gladly see them all off to battle. Unless you intend to invoke the Right of Conscription…?” My father asked gravely.

“Have no fear, while we need as many able-bodied recruits as we can find, I’ve no intention of forcing the issue.” Duncan replied politely.

“Pup, can you see to it that Duncan’s requests are seen to adequately while I’m gone?” Father asked me.

To which I responded with a silent, but sincere nod of confirmation

“In the meantime, find Fergus and tell him that he is to lead the troops to Ostagar ahead of me today.” My father commanded.

“Alright, do you know where Fergus is though?” I asked, hoping for a response so that it would at least make my job a bit easier in this big castle.

“Upstairs in his chambers, no doubt, spending some last moments with his wife and my grandson.” Father replied.

“Be a good lad and do as I’ve asked. We’ll speak again soon.”

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I made my way around the castle, checking up on everything, and getting a feel for what it would be like in the coming months. I was to be the acting Teyrn of Highever, one of the most powerful families in Ferelden. I needed to know the going’s on of every nook and cranny in this castle, or risk chaos. Once I made sure of everything, I walked through the alleyways to my brother’s wing and was approached by Ser Gilmore. Ser Gilmore was a good friend of mine and my brother’s. He was originally a boy whom we got on with well as children and he showed good, respectful character. So, when he came of age my father offered him a good position as a guardsman in the castle. He promptly accepted his position, and has steadily risen in rank, ever since his arrival. He was a brawny man with a smooth face and medium length red hair. He was a few inches taller, and a few years older than I.

“There you are! Your mother told me the teyrn summoned you, so I didn’t want to interrupt.”

“Hello to you, Ser Gilmore.” I replied somewhat startled at his sudden approach.

“Pardon my manners, my lord. It’s simply that I’ve been looking all over the castle for you. I fear your hound has the kitchens in an uproar once again. Nan is threatening to leave.” Ser Gilmore said, smiling.

“She was my nanny before she was the cook. Nan won’t leave.” I said chuckling.

Ser Gilmore snickered a little and informed.

“Your mother disagrees. She insists you collect the dog, and quickly. You know these mabari hounds. They listen only to their master; anyone else risks having an arm bitten off.”   
  


“He knows better than to hurt anyone.” I said, trying to both defend my hound in his absence, and to possibly shirk my duties as to the dog problem. After all, father had already commanded me to find Fergus, and I wouldn’t want to delay...

“I’m not willing to test that. You’re quite lucky to have your own mabari war hound, you know. Smart enough not to talk, my father used to say. Of course, that means he’s easily bored, Nan swears he confounds her just to amuse himself. ” Ser Gilmore laughing.

“At any rate, your mother would have me accompany you until the matter is settled. Shall we?” Ser Gilmore asked, gesturing his hand in the direction of the kitchens.

“Alright, to the kitchen then!” I exclaimed, trying to make the best of this tedious situation.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

We entered the kitchens and saw nan standing in front of two of our elven servants, barking order after order in a furious fit.

  
“Get that bloody mutt out of the larder!” Nan commanded fiercely.

“But, mistress! It won’t let us near!” The elven servant girl pleaded.

“If I can’t get into that larder, I'll skin both of you useless elves, I swear it!” Nan threatened.

“Err… calm down, good woman. We’ve come to help…” Ser Gilmore broke in.

Nan turned to face us, now finally aware of our presence, with a glare that could easily kill a man on the spot.

“You! And you! Your bloody mongrel keeps getting into my larder! That beast should be put down!” Nan exclaimed at us.

“Slow down, he’s not a mongrel! He’s a pureblood mabari!” I responded combatively.

“A blight wolf is what he is! How am I supposed to work like this?!” Nan asked aggressively.

Then, in an effort to calm nan down, the elven servant girl standing behind her said,

“Oh, dear, Mistress, calm down, please—”

“That’s it! I’ll quit. Inform the teyrna. I’ll go work at some nice estate in the bannorn.” 

Ser Gilmore laughed and said.

“Nan, please! We’ll get the dog, calm down.”

“Just get him gone! I’ve got enough to worry about with a castle of hungry soldiers! And you two! Stop standing there like idiots! Get out of the way!” Nan insulted at the two elven servants, causing them to disperse.

We opened the door to the larder only to see the hound with his nose scraping across the floor, and then he raised his had to look at the right wall of the larder that was filled with different potato sacks. He proceeded to bark at the seemingly empty wall. I looked around and saw all different forms of food strewn across the larder floor. Tomatoes, squash, leeks, everything that one could imagine would be stored in a larder was in far flung corners where the cobwebs were usually swept. There was even a torn bag of grain whose leak had built up a large pile on the ground. My first thought was that this was going to be an extreme pain to clean. But It was hard to fathom that this dog could be this destructive. Ser Gilmore observed the same mess and sighed.

“Look at this mess. How did he even get in here?”

The hound looked at us, wagged his stubbed tail and did what I could only rationalize as a big smile, and he barked at us in what seemed to be a friendly, excited manner. I gave in a patted him on the head and complemented him.

“ What a smart boy you are, breaking into the larder, oh, yes, you are.”

He barked happily in response.

“Oh, encourage the hound, why don’t you? No wonder he keeps giving Nan fits.” Ser Gilmore said.

  
At this, the dog became even more excited , and started happily barking and spinning around in place. Almost as if he was trying to keep my attention.

“He does seem like he is trying to tell you something. Wait, did you hear that?” Ser Gilmore asked

I did indeed hear a crash in right side of the room, by the sacks. The next thing we knew, we were being overrun by rats the size of my forearm. Gilmore drew his sword and I drew my sword that I won at the last tourney, that I had strapped on earlier this morning. We dealt with them quite easily, although it left us both a little dumbfounded. I looked to my right and saw the hound trashing a dead rat in his mouth and then suddenly stopped and looked at me. He looked like I had caught him rummaging though the cookie jar, and promptly dropped the rat and resumed an obedient stance at my side.

“Giant rats? It’s like the start of every bad adventure tale my grandfather used to tell.” Ser Gilmore said to relived the dumbfounded silence.

“Your hound must have chased them in through their holes. Looks like he wasn’t raiding the larder after all.” Added Gilmore.

“Those were abnormally large rats, don’t you think?” I asked

“Trust me, I’ve seen larger. They come up from the Kocari Wilds sometimes. But seeing as you got your mabari well in hand, I’ll be on my way. I’m to prepare for the arrival of more of Arl Howe’s men.” Gilmore informed, as he turned around and left the larder.

Once me and the hound exited the larder, I saw Nan standing there tapping her foot in a most judgmental way.

“There he is, as brazen as you please, licking his chops after helping himself to the roast, no doubt!” said Nan, accusatorially.

“Actually, he was defending _your_ larder from rats. Big ones.” I countered.

“W-what? Rats? Not the large grey ones?” Said the elven servant girl, visibly nervous.

“They’ll rip you to shreds, they will!” The other elven servant boy exclaimed.

“See? Now you’ve gone and scared the servants! I expect those filthy things are dead.” Nan stated.

“Uh-huh they are. My faithful warhound, made sure of it.” I championed.

“Hmph. I bet that dog led those rats in there to begin with.” Accused Nan.

This earned a loud whine from the hound, somehow knowing it was being accused of something it didn’t do. I also proceeded to give Nan the biggest “puppy eyes” I had ever seen. Nan made looked at him and said,

“Oh, don’t even start with the sad eyes! I’m immune to your so-called “charms”.” Nan said defiantly.

This would again, earn Nan a loud whine and even more forceful sad eyes from the hound, begging for some form of recompence. At this, Nan sighed and turned around towards the kitchen table and pulled a bowl full of pork bits off the table and leaned down to give it to the whining hound.

“Here, then. Take the pork bits and don’t say Nan never gives you anything! Bloody dog.” Nan said, as the dog happily started inhaling the food.

“ Thank you, my lord. Now we can get to work. That’s right, you too, quit standing about!” Nan loudly commanded at the two servant elves.

I made my way from the kitchens with my loyal hound trailing behind, and decided to start making my way to Fergus’ chambers as my father commanded. I made my way through the alleyways, and saw my mother and some familiar family friends, in the courtyard. They seemed to be Bann Loren’s wife and son. Whose name had escaped my mind.

“—And my dear Bryce brought this back from Orlais last year. The marquis who gave it to him was drunk. I understand, and mistook poor Bryce for the king.” Finished my mother.

“Ah, here is my younger son, Marcus. I take it by the presence of that troublesome hound of yours that the situation in the kitchens is handled?” my mother asked.

“Yes, it is. There were rats in the larder.” I responded to her questioning.

“Ah, marvelous! Just the thing for my guests to hear right before dinner. Darling, you remember Landy Landra? Bann Loren’s wife?”

I did in fact, remember _most_ of the Loren family, have always been heavily present in the yearly tourney grounds and have always placed in the top three combatants every year for as long as I could remember. It was actually Bann Loren himself that convinced me to start competing in the tourney. Since then I have been able to win three bronze medals in the past years. Most recently, I was able to score a gold medal and won the tourney, that took preparation and training I would never like to go through again, but the rush of the crowd was indeed addicting.

“I think we last met at your mother’s spring salon, yes?” Landy Landra asked.

“Of course, it is good to see you again, my lady.” I said.

“You’re too kind, dear boy. Didn’t I spend half of the salon shamelessly flirting with you?” Said Lady Landra, still embarrassed over the events that took place at that event.

“Right in front of your family too.” Said a young man, maybe two years my senior, with red curly hair. He was wearing vestments that were actually made of gold and red Highever Weave. From what I could remember of this man he was of the Loren family. But I still could not put my finger on his name, embarrassingly.

“You remember my son, Dairren? I believe you two sparred in the last tourney.” Lady Landra informed

Ah, yes Dairren. He was a challenge to beat but I made a stern effort and surmounted him in the end. He was quite a bit bulkier than I was, so I remember playing around that by just making him throw out offense until he was visibly tired, and then it was quite easy to win the duel.

“And you beat me handily, as I recall. It’s good to see you again, my lord.” Dairren added.

“And you, Dairren.” I responded respectfully.

“And this is my lady-in-waiting, Iona. Do say something dear.” Said Lady Landra

She pasted on a smile and said,

“It is a great honor, My lord Marcus. I have heard many wonderful things about you.” Said Iona uncomfortably.

“Don’t look now, Eleanor, but I believe the girl has a crush on your lad.” Said Lady Landra cheerily

“Landy Landra!” Said Iona, now visibly embarrassed.

“Hush, Landra. You’ll turn the poor thing scarlet.” My mother commanded

Now very much done with this conversation, and becoming more, and more aware of my actual duties. I asked.

“You are aware we are at war, yes?” I asked mother.

“Aware that my husband and son are about to ride off to battle, and perhaps never return? Quite.” My mother said firmly.

“I think perhaps I shall rest now, my dear. Dairren, I will see you and Iona at supper.” Lady Landra said tiredly.

“Perhaps we’ll retire to the study for now then.” Replied Dairren

“Good evening, your lordship.” Lady Landra stated, making her way to the guest wing.

Mother waited for our respected guests to leave before she suggested.

“You should say goodbye to Fergus while you have the chance.” Mother said with grave finality.  
  


I decided I could maybe find out more about Duncan by questioning my mother on the matter. I was quite interested in him, and his order.

“Did you know there is a Grey Warden here?” I asked curiously.

“Yes, your father mentioned that. You haven’t gotten it into your head that you want to be recruited, have you?” My mother asked, concerned.

“Would that really be so terrible?” I asked my mother.

“There’s enough here in the castle to occupy you. I don’t need you off chasing danger like your brother.” My mother stated.

I inwardly scoffed at that statement. There was enough here to occupy me when I was twelve. Now, it was different, I had this burning desire to prove myself, “I was at that age.” My father would always say. I just needed to be given the chance and I could do it. And if “chasing danger” was the only way I could do it…then…so be it.

“Okay…but I just have a bad feeling about all this.” I said

It was true, I had a foreboding feeling the whole day. It was frankly becoming quite annoying.

“As do I. Your father and brother are marching off to fight Maker-knows-what. All the assurances in the world don’t comfort me. But it wouldn’t help for us to take up arms and follow. Fergus and your father have their duty, and we have ours.” Said mother comforted.

“Are you staying at the castle with me?” I asked curiously.

“For a few days. Then I will travel with Lady Landra to her estate and keep her company for a time. Your father thinks my presence here might undermine your new authority.” Mother informed

“I don’t think you should go.” I pleaded.

“Don’t worry my dear, it won’t be long.” My mother said.

“Would you know where Fergus might be?” I asked, my duties now, once again creeping in on me.

“If he is not out with his men. Then he is probably upstairs with Oriana.” My mother informed

“Alright then, I should go.” I said

“I love you, my darling boy. You know that, don’t you?” Mother asked comfortingly, as she moved my long blonde hair to the side and placed her hand on my cheek.

“I love you too mother.” I responded.

“Go do what you must, then. I will see you soon.”

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I finally made my way to my brother and his family’s chambers. When I opened the door were all standing, talking to one another. I could see that Oriana was visibly worried, and Oren, curious as always, was asking many questions to Fergus about his upcoming adventure.

“Is there really gonna be a war papa? Will you bring me back a sward?”

I always found it quite cute when little Oren would speak. He was at the age where most vocabulary words would come easily to him, but there were still some that impeded him. Oriana had been a good mother all throughout Oren’s life, and had helped brother Aldous teach him when she could. It seemed though, that the word “sword” was still an issue for him.

“That’s “sword” Oren. And I’ll get you the mightiest one I can find, I promise. I’ll be back before you know it.” Fergus said sternly.

My brother was a strong-willed man, and as such, anything he said either came across as stern or extremely proud.

“I wish victory was indeed so certain. My heart is...disquiet.” Oriana chimed-in, worried tears beginning to well up in her eyes

“Don’t frighten the boy, love. I speak the truth. And here is my little brother to see me off. Now dry your eyes, love and wish me well.” Fergus encouraged, now catching sight of me, as I fully entered the room.

“No darkspawn could harm my brother!” I added, earning me a soft, prideful smile from my brother, in thanks.

“He is as mortal as anyone, despite his refusal to believe.” Oriana countered logically.

“Now, love. No need to be grim.” Fergus defended

“I wish I could go with you.” I confessed truthfully, even if it would be simply to relive my own worrisome thoughts.

“I wish you could come! It’ll be tiring, killing all those darkspawn myself.” Fergus boasted.

“Surely your father would not place both of his heirs in danger.” Oriana once again added logically.

“Mother and Father have been fighting about it for days now. It’s too bad, I could have used you at my side.” Fergus lamented.

“You will be missed, brother.” I said, finally letting go of my ambition to join him on the battlefield. _It wouldn’t be happening, not while mother and father still breathe._ I reasoned with myself.

“If it’s any consolation, I’m sure I’ll freeze in those southern rains and be completely jealous of you up here, warm and safe.” Fergus joked.

“I am positively thrilled that you will be so miserable, husband.” Oriana said sarcastically.

Changing the subject off such as sensitive topic, I asked.

“Did you know there is a Grey Warden in the castle?” I asked

“Really?! Was he riding a Griffon?” Oren asked excitedly.

“Shush, Oren. Griffons only exist in stories now.” Oriana commanded.

“I did hear about that, yes. Did he say why he’s come?”

“From what I’ve heard, he is recruiting.” I informed

“Oh? If I were a Grey Warden, little brother, I’d have my eye on you. Not that father would ever allow it.” Fergus

“Do you really think this war will be over quickly?” I inquired

“Word from the south is that the battles have gone well. There’s no evidence this is even a true Blight--just a large raid.” Fergus said encouragingly.

“Could that really be true?” Asked Oriana

“I’ll see for myself soon enough. Pray for me, love, and I’ll be back within a month or two!” Fergus said.

I decided now was a good time to tell Fergus, father’s information.

“I bring a message: Father wants you to leave for the south without him…today.” I informed

“Then the Arl’s men are delayed. You’d think his men were walking backwards.” Fergus said, sighing in frustration, then after looking at little Oren.

“Well id better get underway. So many darkspawn to behead, so little time! Off we go, then. I’ll see you soon, my love.” Fergus comforted, looking at Oriana.

Just then, the door to Fergus’s chambers opened up and in came our parents.

“I would hope, dear boy, that you planned to wait for us before taking your leave.” Father entered the room and said.

Then mother approached Fergus and said,

“Be well, my son. I will pray for your safety every day you are gone.”

“Fergus will be fine.” I stated, in an effort to comfort my mother.

“It’s just as I keep telling you, no darkspawn will ever best me!” Fergus encouraged.

“The Maker sustain and preserve us all. Watch over our sons, husbands, and fathers, and bring them safely back to us.” Oriana prayed.

“—And bring us some ale and wenches while you’re at it!” Fergus jokingly added, receiving a sharp glare from his wife.

“Err… for the soldiers, of course.” Fergus added in an attempt to save his eternal soul.

“Fergus! You would say this in front of your mother?” Oriana accusingly questioned.

Then, Oren had enough of being quiet and decided to speak his mind.

“What’s a wench? Is that what you pull on to get the bucket out of the well?” Asked Oren, extremely curious.

“A wench is a woman that pours ale in a tavern, Oren. Or a woman who drinks a lot of ale.” Informed, my father with a smile on his face.

My mother then turned on her heel, to face towards my father, and lightly hit him on the shoulder.

“Bryce! Maker’s breath, I swear it’s like living with a pack of small boys!”

This earned a loud chuckle from myself and Fergus.

“I’ll miss you, Mother dear. You’ll take care of her, Brother, won’t you?” Fergus asked me.  
  
“You can count on me.” I said in response.

“Oh, good. How thrilling to know I’m so well-taken care of.” My mother said sarcastically.

“Enough. Enough. Marcus, you’ll want to get an early night. You’ve much to do tomorrow.”

Then, I bid my family all goodnight, and made my way to my chambers, with my loyal hound, Gerard.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I awoke panicked, from another one of my horrible nightmares that, I had since I was young. I was very sweaty and my heart was racing. But I was comforted by the fact that I had returned to the real world. There was nothing that could threaten me in my chambers. That was until I looked around my room, and saw Gerard was no longer on my bed, but growling at the door. This was highly unusual for him. I heard hard knocking, and Gerard proceeded to bark angrily at my chamber door. I then questioned him on his unusual behavior.

“What’s wrong, boy? Is someone out there?” I asked, nervous.

As if to answer me, he barked even more at the door and growled.

All at once, I heard a scream coming from a somewhere near me in my wing of the castle. Then, one of the servants barged straight through my door warned.

“My lord! Help me! The castle is under attack!” He screamed

I then saw a bloody arrow protrude from his upper left chest and he collapsed to the ground, choking on his own blood. I immediately jumped into action and slammed the door shot and used all of my strength to move one of the wardrobes in front of the door so that I could put on my clothes and grabbed my sword that was given to me last year after I placed first in the Ferelden tourney. It was still sharp and well-polished, so it thought it could still do the job.

I moved the wardrobe out of the way of the door and met two swordsman and one archer. I needed to put all of the training I had to use, or risk death. One of them charged me aggressively and I deflected his sword and cut him deep on the side of his torso while spinning past him and was able to make probably the greatest move of combative skill I had ever achieved. I swung my sword with all of my power and cut the archer’s bow in half and stabbed him through the side of his stomach, killing him. Then he last swordsman, shocked at my ability to dispatch two of his comrades in one fowl swoop, wisely stood his ground defensively, and waited for my move. I moved in foot he attack and went for a powerful overhead strike, which was blocked easily by his shield. He sobered me quickly with a forceful shield bash to my jawline. This sent me reeling to my side and almost off balance. He seemed to become overconfident after his successful blow and went for the killing blow. I parried his blow and threw the sword off of me, and that left his entire middle section completely open. I took the chance and stabbed him though the chest. I pushed his body off of my blade and he collapsed to the ground. After I was able to rest for a few seconds was when I finally noticed their heraldry. These were…Arl Howe’s men? But…Why?! Why would they be attacking us. My mind jumped to the worst, could Rendon have truly betrayed us? I needed more information.

My mind immediately went to Oriana and Oren, could they be even alive now. How long have they breached the walls while I was asleep? If they are dead, and I could have prevented it…I just needed to hope beyond hope that they yet lived.

Me and my loyal Gerard quickly dealt with two more of Howe’s men, guarding the door leading to Fergus’s wing. Then my mother barged her way through the door. She was in her old Ferelden army armor, and she exclaimed with relief.

“Darling! I heard fighting and feared the worst! Are you hurt?” She asked worried.

“I’m okay, just shaken. What’s going on?” I asked

“A scream woke me up. There were men in the hall, so I barred the door. Have you seen their shields? Those are Howe’s men! Why would they attack us?” Mother questioned, confused

“It seems that he has betrayed Father! It’s convenient that he would attack while our troops are gone!”

“You don’t think Howe’s men were delayed…on purpose? That bastard! Ill cut his lying throat myself!” Mother exclaimed in rage.

“Have you seen your father? He never came to bed!” Mother inquired

“No, I haven’t. I was in my room, sleeping.”

“Well then we must find him!” Mother commanded.

“Can you still handle a weapon mother?” I asked curiously, she was always strong-willed, but I did not know if her age would have already caught up to her.

“I am no Orlesian wallflower—give me a sword and I’ll use it! Now let’s go!” My mother commanded, as I went over to where one of Howe’s swordsmen lay dead and handed mother his sword and shield.

We made our way to Fergus’s chambers and saw the door ajar; we opened the door fully and…they were slaughtered. Oriana looked to have been stabbed in the stomach. Oren’s little innocent body now lied cold on the floor; his throat slit from one end to the other. He did not deserve this, he just wanted to know more about the world. Now, he would never see the warm morning light ever again. He would never learn any knew words. He would never again make us laugh with his naive questioning. His life taken from him so suddenly, and brutally. The worst part was that, I didn’t even know the reason behind his death.

“No! My little Oren! What manner of fiend slaughters innocents?” My mother wept.

“Don’t look mother.” I said as I averted my eyes.

“Oh, I’ll look. I’ll remember this day when Howe dies screaming like the dog he is!” My mother said with grieving rage.

She looked away and said,

“Oh, poor Fergus…let’s go. I don’t want to see this anymore!” She commanded.

We found our way to the castle alleyways and were making our way to the Main Hall. I needed to find Father, I would never forgive myself for letting Oren and Oriana die, I would **_not_** allow father to die as well. Even if it meant my death. We beat our way through a patrol of Howe's men in the alleyways, taking them by surprise. Once we opened the door to the Main Hall, it was chaos. There were men clashing everywhere, it was like a small battlefield. I spotted Ser Gilmore leading the charge against Howe’s traitorous men, most likely just as shocked as we are.

We fought though the traitors with the help of Ser Gilmore and his remaining men. The only truly difficult traitor to dispatch was a mage that Howe seemed to have in his employ. It was a bloody skirmish and resulted in the death of a couple of our men. I saw Ser Gilmore jump into action after we defeated the present attackers.

“Go! Man, the gate! Keep those bastards out as long as you can!” Ser Gilmore commanded his men.

Ser Gilmore approached us with a look of great relief on his face.

“Your Ladyship! My Lord! You’re both alive! I was certain Howe’s men had gotten though!” Ser Gilmore said concernedly.

“They _did_ get though!” I responded.

“They killed Oriana, and Oren…I can’t believe—Are you injured?” My mother added

“Don’t you worry about me, your Ladyship. Thank the maker you two are unharmed.” Ser Gilmore said humbly

Ser Gilmore turned his attention the door that was being manned by his two men and said.

“When I realized what was happening, it was all I could do to shut the gates. But they won’t keep Howe’s men out long! If you’ve another way out of the castle, use it quickly!”

“Gilmore, we _need_ to find Father, if you know anything, please tell us.” I pleaded

“When I last saw the Teyrn, he’d been badly wounded. I urged him not to go, but he was determined to find you. He went towards to the kitchen. I believe he thought to find you at the servants’ exit in the larder.” Ser Gilmore informed.

  
“Bless you, Ser Gilmore. Maker watch over you!” Mother said

Ser Gilmore looked down at the floor and said.

“Maker watch over us all…” He said as he went to help his men reinforce the gates.

_A valiant man to the end._ I thought, leaving him there to do his finish his duty, and find my father.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

**Song Choice: Jyn Erso & Hope Suite – Michael Giacchino **

Me and mother made our way to the larder. I thought of Nan, I hoped she was alive, but at this point, odds were that she was

mercilessly killed as well. I still could not believe it; in a single night my entire life was shaken. Everyone I knew and loved were being systematically being taken from me. If I made it out alive tonight…I would need to kill Rendon, this was beyond forgiveness, even for him. He would pay. Me and mother cut our way through another patrol of men in the alleyways leading to the kitchens. We entered, two see the bloodied body of Nan lying on the floor. The worst part was, I couldn’t even cry, I had seen too much already, it was emotional overload. I just needed to see my father alive. Please, good Maker, if you are truly kind, do not take him from me. We proceeded though to the larder door and then…

“There…you both are. I was…wondering when you would get here.” My father groaned out, lying in a pool of his own blood.

My mother covered her mouth with her hands in shock of the sight and exclaimed.

“Bryce!” She said as we ran to his side.

“Maker’s blood, what’s happening? You’re bleeding!” She asked

“Howe’s men…found me first. Almost… did me in right there.” Father once again groaned out in extreme pain.

“We need to get you out of here father!” I exclaimed, hoping he would be able to make it out with me.

“I…I won’t survive the standing. I think.” He said grimly

“That’s not true! You’ll be fine, come on!” I said defiantly. Not allowing my father to give up. All my life he was my hero, I could not see him fall, not now.

He smiled at me though bloody teeth.

“Ah, my sweet boy…if only will alone could make it so.” He replied

“Bryce, Once Howe’s men break through the gate, they will find us! We must go!” Mother pushed.

“Someone…must find Fergus…tell him what has happened.” Father stated.

I grabbed his shoulder, and said encouragingly.

“You will tell him yourself father, then we will take revenge on Arl Howe, in honor of Cousland name!”   
  
“I…wish I could.” Father said as he groaned once again in pain.

“Bryce, no! The servants passage is right here! We can flee together, find you healing magics!” Mother said, devising a plan.

“The castle is surrounded Eleanor…I cannot make it.”

  
We then turned around to see two more of Howe’s men finding us in the larder. I stood to defend my mother and father, and I saw a sword protrude though one of the men’s chest. As soon as that sword was retracted from his chest, another quickly slit the throat of the other man with great finesse and skill, dispatching the two swordsmen easily. It then saw a bloody Duncan who seemed to be uninjured. He sheathed his blades on his back and said.

“I’m afraid the Teyrn is correct. Howe’s men have not discovered this exit, but they surround the castle. Getting past will be difficult.”

“You are…Duncan, then? The Grey Warden?” My mother asked, seemingly the first time they had met. What horrible circumstances for a first meeting.

“Yes, your Ladyship. The Teyrn and I tried to reach you sooner.” Duncan said, ever polite.

“My younger son helped me get here, Maker be praised.” Mother said looking at me.

Duncan looked at me, and said with a soft smile.

“I am not surprised.”

“Are you going to help us Duncan?” I asked. Trying to cut to chase. I wanted my father out of here alive and the more time we burned the less likely that outcome was.

“Whatever is to be done now, it must be quick! They are coming!” Mother exclaimed worriedly.

“Duncan…you are under no obligation to me, but I beg you…take my wife and son to safety!” My father chimed in with a pleading offer.

“I will, your Lordship. But…I fear I must ask for something in return.” Said Duncan, earning a very confused look from myself

“Anything!” My father exclaimed.

“What is happening here pales in comparison to the evil now loose in this world. I came to your castle seeking a recruit. The darkspawn threat demands that I leave with one.” Duncan explained, making an offer of his own.

My father looked at me with concern plastered on his face. Then he looked back at Duncan and said.

“I…I understand.”

My mind was swimming, if Duncan needed a recruit _so_ badly that he needed to bargain with a dying man who has just lost everything around him in a single night. His friends, family, and ruling lands, why wouldn’t he go through the trouble of saving Ser Gilmore, along with us, seeing as that was his intended recruit anyway.

“What about Ser Gilmore?” I asked, frustrated that he would just abandon the memory of Ser Gilmore that way.

“Truthfully, you were always my first choice.” Duncan answered.

“I will take the Teyrna and your son to Ostagar to tell Fergus and the King what has happened here. Then, your son will join the Grey Wardens.” Duncan informed us of his future plans.

“So long as justice comes to Howe…I agree.” My father choked out.

  
Duncan then looked at me at my father’s agreement and offered.

“Then I offer you a place within the ranks of the Grey Wardens. Fight with us.”

I looked at my father and he nodded his head, in a comforting way, almost as if to say, that it will all be alright. That ever decision I make from here on, he would be with me. And with that encouragement, I gave Duncan my answer.

“I accept you offer then, Duncan.” I said turning my head to face him.

Duncan rose from his knelling position and commanded

“We must leave quickly, then.”

“Bryce, are you…sure?” My mother asked

“Our son will not die here tonight, not because of Howe’s treachery. He will live, and make his mark on the world. I have never been surer of anything in my life.” My father encouraged proudly.

I looked at my mother, who had her attention completely on my father. I could see something in her eyes, she was debating something. But somehow, I already knew what she was going to say. She was going to be loyal to the end, she would stand by her love to the very end. She looked up at me with watery eyes, and said.

“Darling, go with Duncan. You have a better chance to escape without me.”

“Eleanor…” My father attempted to plead with her.

“Hush, Bryce. I’ll kill every bastard that comes through that door to buy them time. But I won’t simply abandon you here.” She stated with certainty.

“I won’t let you sacrifice yourself mother!” I exclaimed, pleading with her one last time.

“My place is with your father. At his side, to death and beyond.” My mother said, making her final vows.

“Go. Warn your brother. And know that we love you both. You do us proud son!” My father said in-between groans of pain, the life visibly fading from him now.  
  
I did not want to leave him, I clung on to him with everything that I had. There was a loud crash, it was the gates. Howe’s men had finally broken though. Duncan pulled me away from my parents. This would likely be the very last time I would ever see them. I this larder, bloody and dying.

“They’ve broken thought the gates. We must go, now!” Duncan exclaimed

“Goodbye my darling boy.” I heard my mother say as Duncan dragged me out of the larder.

What seemed like an eternity later, myself and Duncan made our way to his wagon that was parked outside of the castle. It was being guarded by a couple of guardsmen. Duncan snuck up behind them and assassinated them quickly. He did a quick audit on his things, seeing that it was still intact and there. I hopped into the back as he silently commanded, and called my hound up into the carriage as well. Then Duncan quietly commanded the horse at the form of the wagon to move turned the wagon around and we sped away as quickly as possible with me in the back.

Once we thought we were safe, he stopped the wagon, and informed me of his exact plans.

“We will be traveling south through the Brecilian Forest, there is something lurking there, that requires the attention of myself. Then, we will make our way to the ruin of Ostagar, on the edges of the Korcari Wilds. The Tevinter Imperium built Ostagar long ago to prevent the Wilders from invading the northern lowlands. It’s fitting that we will be making our stand there, even if we face a different foe within that forest.”  
  
I decided to take one last look at my home, and what was to be my legacy. It burned in bright flame, everything I had…gone, my home, my mother, and even my father. All that I could hope for now was that my brother survived. The worst part was…that I did not know why…why would—why would Arl Howe do this? I nodded in acknowledgement at Duncan’s information, not feeling up to doing any more than that.

Duncan turned his head to face around and we made our way to the Brecilian Forest.


	5. Arrival at Ostagar

**Song Choice: Ruins of Ostagar – Inon Zur**

There were at least thirty different things I could find to complain about at this very moment. Maybe the constant noise, the lack of fine wines, and the smell… let’s just say that darkspawn corpses don’t make for a good scent. I had smelled more than my fair share of death, but rotting darkspawn was something else entirely. Sometimes, after a rainy day, the clouds will clear, and when the bright sun shines down, the stench is bad enough to make the eyes burn. Quickly though, my mind was ushered back to reality at the beckoning of Teyrn Loghain, a remarkable general, and brilliant strategist. We were currently busy devising a proper strategy in case of full-scale darkspawn siege, which they were expecting to happen within the next few days. It had been almost a month now of skirmishing, each growing larger by the day. Loghain could see that the darkspawn were consolidating power, whist sending scouts to try and weaken us as much as possible. We had been waiting on Duncan to return with something for the better part of a month now. According to his last message, he would be returning either today or tomorrow. I turned my head to see the young King Cailan who was sat at the war table, utterly uninterested.  
  
“Your Highness, are you paying _any_ mind, to what I am saying?” Teyrn Loghain asked, visibly frustrated at his king’s lack of interest in his important words.

“Yes Loghian. Please, continue—”

“Your Highness, Your Lordship, Ser.” The officer burst in, addressing us all separately.

“What is it, soldier?” Teyrn Loghain said, peeling his eyes away from the war table to look at the officer.

“Duncan has arrived. And with _two_ recruits.” The officer informed.

Just then, Cailan practically jumped up from his seat at the war table.

“Brilliant! Bring an escort of guardsman, I want to be there to greet him myself!”

“Shouldn’t we finish our prior conversation, regarding these very _important_ strategies, your Highness?” Logahin asked, grinding his teeth in frustration at Cailan's complete disregard.

“Nonsense! We can continue this conversation at any time. I will only get one chance to greet Duncan and his two new honorable recruits!”  
  


The King then tuned to me and commanded,

“Silus, you’re with me, I want you to be there when I greet them.”

“As you wish.” I said as we exited and joined with the guard escort headed to the entrance bridge to greet these fresh, new recruits.

As we approached the bridge, I could see Duncan walking with his two recruits and a mabari, I could even hear Duncan debriefing them.

“You two must know, the king’s forces have clashed with the darkspawn several times, but here is where the bulk of the horde will show itself. There are only a few Grey Wardens within Ferelden at the moment, but all of us are here. This Blight must be stopped here and now. If it spreads to the north, Ferelden will fall.”

Only moments later King Cailan excitedly greeted him while I was silently observing.

“Ho there, Duncan!” Greeted, King Cailan.

“King Cailan? I didn’t expect—”

“A royal welcome? I was beginning to worry you’d miss all of the fun!” Interrupted Cailan

“Not if I could help it, your Majesty” Duncan said awkwardly.

“Then I’ll have the mighty Duncan at my side after all! Glorious! The other Wardens-to-be and your liaison here, told me you’ve found _two_ promising recruits; I take it these are them?” The King asked, gesturing towards the human male and elven female.

“Allow me to introduce you, your Majesty.” Duncan said

“No need to be so formal, Duncan. We’ll be sheading blood together, after all, Ho there, friend! Might I have your name?” Asked the King in friendly towards the elven girl.

She seemed to have the markings of a Dalish elf, who was most likely, awestruck by the size of Ostagar. As he eyes at been pointed skyward, observing the great ruined spires for all the time up until she had been addressed. And with all of these humans being strangely nice to her, it must have felt awfully out of place. She was petite from what I could see, as was be expected with elven women, and possessed the traditional dalish markings on her face. She had a fit frame, with long black hair, that was tied up rather like Duncan’s . Although she did look quite pale, and seemed almost feverish. I had my suspicions as to what exactly was wrong, but I could quiet them for now.

“I am Jasmine, your Majesty.” She replied as formally as she could, clearly showing signs of repeated rehearsal, most likely during the wagon ride.

“Pleased to meet you! The Grey Wardens are desperate to bolster their numbers, and I, for one, am glad to help them. You are Dalish, are you not? I hear that your people possess remarkable skill and honor” Cailan responded

“Thank you, your majesty, you are too kind.” Jasmine said respectfully, even if it was just niceties.

“I admire you, for being so civil to a race that’s treated yours so terribly. I’ll tell you this: You are very welcome here. The Grey Wardens will benefit greatly with you amongst them.” Cailan said, now turning his attention to the, almost depressed looking young man currently placing his attention upon his mabari.

“Now you I recognize! You are Bryce’s youngest, are you not? I don’t think we’ve ever actually met.” Cailan said excitedly.

So, he was the Teyrn Bryce Cousland’s youngest son? His older brother had arrived with nearly the entire Cousland force backing him, from what I understand. He did not look extremely similar to his older brother, actually looking far more like Cailan. He had long blonde hair falling just barely onto his shoulders. He was also surely fit, but was still visibly young. He had some stubble on his face, most likely due to the long journey here. But I could see something in his eyes, he had been, broken somehow, a look I knew well, but I did not yet know why.

“Yes, your Majesty, my name is Marcus.” He said respectfully, but oddly quiet.

“Your brother has already arrived with Highever’s men, but we are still awaiting your father.” Cailan informed

“He’s not coming, He died when our castle was taken.” The boy said, looking once again down at his hound.

A shocked, saddened expression, dawned onto Cailan’s face. The elven girl looked up at him softly, nodded her head sadly in respect, as if she had heard the news before.

“Dead?! What do you mean?! Duncan, do you know anything about this?” Cailan asked frantically.

“Teyrn Cousland and his wife are dead, your Majesty. Arl Howe has shown himself a traitor and has overtaken Highever castle. Had we not escaped, he would have killed us and told you any story he wished.” Duncan somberly informed the King.

This was a shock to even myself, Arl Howe was to assist us here, but instead has betrayed Ferelden. But such was the nature of man. It almost reminded me of home in some, sick, twisted way. I saw Cailan turn away from Duncan at the revelation, looking to be contemplating something.

“I…can scarcely believe it! How could he think he would get away with such treachery?” Cailan asked angrily, walking over to the Cousland youngest, turning his attention to him and proclaimed.

“As soon as we are done here, I will turn my army north and bring Howe to justice. You have my word.” Cailan vowed.

“Thank you, your majesty.” Marcus said thankfully.

“No doubt you wish to see your brother. Unfortunately, he and his men are scouting in the Wilds.” Cailan informed.

This caught the Cousland boy’s attention, and he looked up worriedly and responded,

“But he may be in danger!”

“We are all in danger, my friend. Nothing can be done until your brother returns, and that will not be until the battle is over. I apologize, but there is nothing more I can do. All I can suggest is that you vent your anger and grief against the darkspawn for the time being” Cailan said grimly.

Marcus nodded in grim realization of the situation at hand and said,

“Thank you for your time, your Majesty.”

“I’m sorry to cut this short, but I should return to my tent. Loghain waits eagerly to bore me with his strategies once again.” Cailan apologized, then looking to me and said,

“Silus, you are to resume command under Duncan, but I wanted to let you know that your assistance in Duncan’s absence has been invaluable. Thank you.” Cailan thanked

“Your Majesty, I wanted to inform you of something before you go. Your Uncle sends his greetings and reminds you that Redcliffe’s forces could be here in less than a week.”

“Ha! Eamon just wants in on the glory. We’ve won three battles against these monsters and tomorrow will be no different.” Cailan said confidently.

“You sound very confident of that.” Jasmine perked up.

“Overconfident, some would say. Right, Duncan?” Cailan said, laughing.

“Your Majesty, if I may, I’m not certain the Blight can be ended quite as…quickly as you might wish.” Duncan warned

This was a sentiment that I wholeheartedly agreed with, Cailan wanted so badly to be a hero of legend, to defeat the blight in one foul swoop but he would need to temper his ambition, or he would certainty die.

“Duncan, I’m not even sure this is a true blight. There are plenty of darkspawn on the field, but alas, we’ve seen no sign of an archdemon.” Cailan turned away and said.

“Disappointed, your Majesty?” Duncan asked Cailan with his back turned.

“I’d hoped for a war like in the tales! A king riding with the fabled Grey Wardens against a tainted god. But I suppose this will have to do.” Cailan explained, disappointed.

“Now, I really must be going, before Loghain sends out a search party. Farewell, Grey Wardens!” Cailan said, as we all bowed respectfully, and he turned away to head back to Loghain’s tent.

Duncan then looked to once again debrief his new recruits and informed,

“What the king said is true. They’ve won several battles against the darkspawn here.”

“Yet you don’t sound very reassured.” Said Marcus.

Duncan then gestured for them to follow with him down the bridge Cailan had just recently tread. Whilst I shadowed behind them, waiting for the proper chance to introduce myself. As Duncan walked with us, he continued to debrief the recruits.

“Despite the victories so far, the Darkspawn horde grows larger with each passing day. By now, they look to outnumber us.” Duncan warned once again.

This was true, since the last formal battle, there have been skirmishes growing larger and larger with each passing day.

“I know there is an archdemon behind this. But I cannot ask the king to act solely on my feeling.” Duncan continued.

“What would you have him do?” Asked Marcus.

“Wait for reinforcements.” Duncan replied.

“Silus here, sent a call out west to the Grey Wardens of Orlais, but it will be many days before they are able to join us. Our numbers In Ferelden are too few. We must do what we can, and look to Teyrn Logahin to make up the difference. To that end, we should proceed with the Joining ritual without delay.” Duncan informed.

“What do you mean? What ritual?” Asked Jasmine

It then came to my attention that this was the first time Duncan had even mentioned the Joining. This was sure to shake them a bit.

“Every new recruit must go through a secret ritual we call the Joining in order to become a Grey Warden.” Duncan explained

I saw the looks of uneasiness in both Jasmine and Marcus. They exchanged a quick glance of suspicion, and turned their attention back to Duncan.

“The Joining is what will cure you of the suffering your tainted blood surely brings you. If it had been possible, I would have done it before now. The ritual is brief but requires some preparation.” Duncan continued to explain, looking at Jasmine.

So, she had the Taint, then that was the reason for her pale, feverish look. I would have to investigate her condition later.

“You two may feel free to explore the camp here as you wish. All I ask is that you do not leave it for the time being. There is another Grey Warden in the camp by the name of Alistair. When you are ready, ask Silus, and he will accompany you to Alistair and I need you to tell him to summon the other recruits. Until then, I have business I must attend to. You may find me at the Grey Warden tent on the other side of the bridge. Should you need me, although I’m sure Silus can attend to all of your questions while I’m absent.” Duncan said, looking at me, and I nodded in conformation.

The two recruits bowed, bidding Duncan goodbye, and turned to me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, now we have set the stage. All three of our main heroes have been introduced with many more oddballs to come!


	6. Formal Introductions

Jasmine POV:

As Duncan left us, the man known as Silus positioned himself in front of us and said,

“I don’t believe Duncan formally introduced us. I am Silus Alucard Cronvist, Tevinter Liaison of the Grey Warden order.”

He was a tall man, taller than Duncan and Marcus. Quite attractive for a shem male. He had medium length, wavy black hair, the sides of which hung just to his jawline, and had an admittedly… well shaped face, for a man. He also had tranquil green eyes, and a bit of facial hair around his mouth, which I had always found odd in human men, as elven males did not grow facial hair. He seemed to be a younger than Duncan, but not by much, appearing to be in his mid-to-late twenties. The armor he wore was unique among the soldiers I had yet seen. He wore a black and gold metal breastplate, and made sure his grieves and boots also matched. He also wore a heavy, red velvet cloak with a hood that was lined with brown fur, and a connecting chain so that it could hang from his neck.

“You are of Tevinter?” Marcus asked.

“Yes, Duncan contacted me…what was it? Two months ago, now. He was seeing clear signs of a Blight and sent for help wherever he could, even if it meant contacting Tevinter’s Magisterium. But, I think the rest of this conversation would be better served in my tent, don’t you?”  
  
Silus bade us to follow him to his war tent and we followed. I think that we were both ready to just sit down and relax for a moment. Marcus’ hound also followed behind us.

  
We entered Silus’ tent and it immediately noticed it as very well kept, it reminded me of the Keeper’s tent back home. He walked behind what I assumed was his desk, and gestured for us to take our seats at the two chairs on the opposite side of the desk. He walked to a small table placed behind his main desk and took a metal pot and turned towards us and offered.

“Tea? I sure your muscles are quite tense from your time spent in the back of Duncan’s wagon for days on end. If that is not enough, then I have a collection of many various kinds of fine spirits beverages from all across Thedas. I’m a collector, you see. A conesuer as the Orlesians would call it. Both would do well to settle the nerves.”

“Tea for me, please.” I asked politely.

“Tell me what you have in terms of _spirits_.” Marcus said

“I have two spirits that I would recommend. But I won’t bother telling you of their potency, from what I heard, your journey has not been a delight in the least. But I wouldn’t want to poke at a tender subject, as you are my guests, and _my_ guests are always treated as royalty. The first is a rare bottle from Tevinter, _Sun Blonde Vint: First Edition,_ it was originally brewed for a very discreet clientele, and is strong enough to fluster a Tranquil. I prefer to drink it with freshly-picked catsbane, it enhances the flavor, and keeps it from making you pass out. The second, is from my time in the Orlesian mage circle, it’s called the _Aqua Magus,_ I have drank some before, it is a fine drink as well, and infused with a bit of refined lyrium. Potentially fatal If ingested in large quantities by the _unacclimated_.” Silus explained in great detail, pulling out both bottles, one glowing a soft blue, and the other an almost, milk-looking substance.

Marcus, with his head in his hands looked to the white drink and pointed to it.

“That one will do fine, Thank you.” Marcus thanked

“It is my pleasure.” Silus said as he took the metal tea pot in his hands and placed the herbs in with some fresh water, he poured from a glass vase, and closed the lid. To my utter shock, and Marcus’ apparently, seeing as he jumped out of his seat. He proceeded to ignite his right hand and placed it under the pot for a few seconds. After he was finished heating the pot, he calmly picked up a tea cup and put it in front of me and quietly poured the hot tea into the cup.

Marcus, now recovering from has paralytic shock, exclaimed.

“You didn’t tell us you were a mage!”

“I was about to tell you, just after I had served you both.” Silus responded as he poured himself a short glass of the blue glowing spirit, and poured Marcus a similar glass full of the cloudy liquid. He proceeded to politely serve Marcus his drink, and sat in his chair, facing us directly.

“As I said, Duncan contacted me a couple of months ago when he started to see signs a of Blight. I was a part of the Tevinter Magisterium, and me being a prodigy since I was but a child, sent me to investigate for them, and make sure that this was contained within Ferelden, and would not spread north. So, I decided to accept Duncan’s offer of becoming a liaison of the order. My role here is to assist in devising strategies, and lead all of the mages we have here at Ostagar into battle.” Silus informed

“So, you are to lead the resident mages into battle?” I asked curiously

“Yes. But not in the same way a general would lead his valiant warriors into battle in set formation. That is all I will say on that topic for now though.” Silus stated, as he gulped down the rest of his drink, setting his glass on the table.

“Feel free to relax for a bit longer, if you’d like. Although, I would recommend finding Alistair soon, so that we may proceed with the preparations for the Joining, seeing as you are infected with the Taint.” Silus addressed me.

After about fifteen more minutes of relaxation Marcus finished his strong drink and looked at me.

“ I think we should leave to find Alistair.” Marcus suggested, looking at Silus relaxed in his lounge chair with his legs crossed reading a book.

Silus promptly shut his book, got up, put his cloak back on, and grabbed his staff that was leaned up in the corner of the tent, and beckoned us to exit. I obeyed and followed him, I peeked back inside to see Marcs get up too quick and almost stumble over his hound, we walked around the campgrounds, until he spotted someone who caught his attention. It was an older woman, she seemed to have kind eyes and a sweet, soft smile upon seeing Silus. He approached her and asked.

“Wynne! My savior! Have you seen Alistair anywhere around? Duncan has asked us to find him.”

“He was up at the ritual site last I saw him. I assume these are Duncan’s new recruits then? Would you mind introducing me?” The woman known as Wynne asked, looking at me and Marcus.

“Ah, yes. Well, this young woman here is Jasmine…”

Seeing he was looking for my surname to introduce me, yet another shemlen custom I had to get used to. I informed quickly.

“Mahariel.”

  
“Mahariel. Jasmine Mahariel.” Silus said chuckling at his own ignorance.

“And this young man is Marcus Cousland, second born of Teyrn Bryce Cousland.” Silus properly informed.

“Greetings then, younglings. Duncan is not a man easily impressed. You two should be proud. Allow me to introduce myself, since Silus has forgotten his proper manners. I am Wynne, one of the mages summoned by the king.”

“Pleased to meet you.” I said.

  
“Well met to you then, and good luck to you on the battlefield. To us all, in fact.” Wynne said.

“Will you be fighting beside the king?” Asked Marcus.

“Not precisely. The Grey Warden’s will be on the frontlines, not the mages. Still, we all have our parts to play.”

“Well we had best get going, Alistair awaits.” Silus said, herding us away from the kind old woman.

“Yes, I’m sure Duncan has more for you to do than to sit here, talking to me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Noticeably, there is no song in this chapter, this is not by mistake. Some chapters do not have an accompanying song, so as to avoid bombarding you with possibly overstimulating music.


	7. Preparations, Preparations

Marcus POV:

Jasmine and I made our way to find Alistair. Apparently Silus needed to take care of something quickly, but said that he would make his way here once he was done. For some odd reason, Silus struck me as a man with many secrets; powerful secrets. We made our way to where Wynne had said Alistair last was. When we got there, there was a warrior who was currently involved in an argument with one of the mages.

“What is it now? Haven’t Grey Wardens asked more than enough of the Circle?” The mage asked, frustrated.

“I simply came to deliver a message from the revered mother, ser mage. She desires your presence.” Said the warrior, trying to defuse the argument.

I immediately took notice of the boyish charm in his voice; it had a distinct playfulness to it. He was an average sized young man who was a slightly bulkier build, but was still quite muscular in design. He had dirty-blonde, bordering on brown, with red peppered in here-and-there. His style of hair was reminiscent of the traditional military style, but the front had been swept upward. His eyes were a noticeable light brown, and he possessed slight stubble on his chin, but it was present nowhere else, most likely on purpose. Overall, he did not give off the air that he took himself overly serious, unlike many others here.

“What her reverence “desires” is of no concern to me! I am busy helping the Grey Wardens—by the king’s orders, I might add!” the mage replied, becoming more aggravated.

“Should I have asked her to write a note?” The warrior replied.

“Tell her, I will not be harassed in this manner!” exclaimed the mage

“Yes, I was harassing _you_ by delivering a massage.” The warrior said with a smile

“Your glibness does you no credit.” The mage responded

“Oh, and here I thought we were getting along so well. I was even going to name one of my children after you…the grumpy one.” The warrior jested. Just as SIlus walked up behind us to witness what was going on.

“Enough! I will speak to the woman if I must. Get out of my way, fool.” The mage said walking past us, only to be stopped by Silus, who he had not seen prior.

“Hold mage, and listen well. You are to obey the commands and whims of the king, and when he is not present, you obey me. I will give you this warning only once: Comply with the wardens, do as they ask, or, I quietly turn you to ash and scatter you to the winds. Do you understand?” Silus threatened.

“Y-yes Ser Silus.” The mage said timidly.

“Now, get out of my sight, and find the revered mother, with haste.” Silus commanded, as the mage walked at a noticeably faster pace.

“You know, one good thing about the Blight is how it brings people together.” Said the warrior, jokingly, approaching myself, Jasmine, and Silus.

“I know exactly what you mean.” I said sarcastically.

“It’s like a party: we could all stand in a circle and hold hands. _That_ would give the darkspawn something to think about.” The warrior replied.

“Wait, we haven’t met, have we? I don’t suppose you happen to be another mage? I mean, I know that lout in the back. Hello Tevinter!”  
  
“Hello, shithead.” Silus replied in a deadpan manner.

I laughed a bit, before replying,

“We haven’t met, no. You must be Alistair then?” Jasmine asked

“And that makes you Duncan’s new recruits, I suppose? Glad to meet you. Also, I wanted to let you know now rather than later. As the junior member of the order. I’ll be accompanying you two when you prepare for the Joining, since there are, in fact, _two_ of you, Silus will also be accompanying us, if he hasn’t told you yet.”

  
“Pleased to meet you then, my name is Jasmine and this is Marcus.” Jasmine politely introduced.

“Right, those were the names. You know… it just occurred to me that there have never been many women in the Grey Wardens. I wonder why that is.”

“You want more women in the Wardens, do you?” Jasmine inquired curiously

“Would that be so terrible? Not that I’m some drooling lecher or anything—”

  
“Entirely untrue.” Silus interrupted

“So, I’m curious, have either of you ever actually encountered darkspawn before?” Alistair asked us both.

“I have, just recently, although I don’t think Marcus here has before.”

“I’ve only fought _one_ up close. And that was before the battles here started…which Duncan has kept me out of so far. Tell me, did you find them as monstrous as I did?” Alistair inquired

  
“I was not too terrified, after I learned they die like anything else.” I said confidently

“You’ll be at an advantage, then. Most new recruits have never even _seen_ darkspawn. Which reminds me, you’ll will want to be mentally prepared for when we make our preparations as we will most definitely be seeing darkspawn.”

“What was that argument about, earlier?” I asked

“With the mage? The Ferelden Circle is here at the kings request and the Chantry doesn’t like that one bit. They just _love_ letting mages know how unwelcome they are. The only mage I have seen escape the Chantry’s talons is Ser Silus here.”

“I would hope they know better than to heckle _me_ on petty affairs I have no interest in. However, I am quite the oddity, I am a Tevinter, who is Andrastian in belief, so that might also be why.” Silus informed.

“Which puts me in an awkward position. I was once a Templar.” Alistair revealed.

I the realized the point of contention he was making now. But Jasmine still seemed to be lost.

“What’s a Templar?” Jasmine asked seeming quite curious.

“You don’t know? I guess you wouldn’t considering your background. Quick version, then. The Chanty tries to control mages because they’re dangerous, so they keep templars that train to hunt down and kill apostates. That was what I was being trained as when Duncan recruited me six months ago.” Alister explained

“Well I guess we have stood around for long enough. Let’s get started on these preparations.” I suggested.

“Right then, let’s make our way to Duncan to see what, exactly, we will be doing.” Alistair said as we all made our way to Duncan to receive our orders.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

We found Duncan standing by a large pyre. As we approached him, he caught sight of us and said.

“You two found Alistair, did you? Good. I'll assume you are ready to begin preparations. Assuming, of course, that you are quite finished riling up mages, Alistair.” Duncan reprimanded.

“What can I say? The revered mother ambushed me. The way she wields guilt they should stick her in the army.” Alistair responded.

“She forced you to sass the mage, did she? We cannot afford to antagonize anyone, Alistair. We don’t need to give anyone more ammunition against us.” Duncan continued

“You’re right, Duncan. I apologize.” Alistair relented.

“It’s quite alright, I took care of the situation, personally. The mage will no longer be bothersome towards the orders of the Grey Wardens.” Silus said to Duncan

“Good, but I have a feeling that card can only be played so many times. Best not to erode its power on needless arguments such as that one.” Duncan warned.

“Now then, since you are all here, we can begin. You six will all be heading into the Korcari Wilds to preform two tasks, in two separate teams. Alistair will be leading the team that will be obtaining the blood. The first task is to obtain four vials of darkspawn blood, one for each recruit.” Duncan debriefed

“And the second task?” I asked curiously.

“There was once a Grey Warden archive in the Wilds, abandoned long ago when we could no longer afford to maintain such remote outposts. It has recently come to our attention that some important scrolls have been left behind, magically sealed to protect them. Silus, I want you, and your assigned team to retrieve these scrolls if you can.” Commanded Duncan

“Find the archives, and four vials of darkspawn blood. Understood.” Jasmine restated.

“The scrolls contain treaties promising support. Treaties that may prove valuable in the days to come. Watch over your charges Alistair and Silus, return quickly and safely.” Duncan commanded, concerned.

“We will.” Alistair responded.

“Then may the Maker watch over your path, I will see you when you return.” Duncan said, bidding us goodbye.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

We made our way out of the camp, and into the place known as the Korcari Wilds. It was almost thirty minutes of walking before we were in the Wilds proper, according to Silus. The moment we stepped into the path I could feel this overwhelming darkness emanating from this place. It was almost palpable, it even seemed to cloud the suns light almost.

“Alright, here is where I say we split. Marcus and Ser Jory, you’re with me.” Alistair said as he beckoned us to his side.

We walked around some of few beaten paths but eventually made our way to the banks of a small pond. It smelled horrible and was extremely muddy, ruining my new armored boots. As we walked along the edges of the murky pond, we heard a pained moan. We all looked at one another and ran to where the sound was coming from. It was coming from a dying soldier. His wagon was completely destroyed and his horse was, about as dead as anything could possibly be. It Looked to have been torn apart. A leg here, innards over there. It was shocking to say the least. Us there circled around him, getting a good look at his condition.

“Who…is that? Grey…Wardens?” He groaned out.

“Well, he’s not half as dead as he looks, is he?” Alistair said, making a joke in ill taste.

  
“My scouting band was attacked by darkspawn. They came out of the ground…Please, help me! I’ve got to…return to camp…” The poor soldier pledged.

“Let’s try to bandage him up, at least.” I said.

“I have bandages in my pack.” Alistair informed, as he knelled down to begin the process of bandaging up the soldier’s most grievous wounds.

  
A few minutes later Alistair was finished, and the wounded soldier got to his feet and said thankfully

“Thank you! I…I’ve got to get out of this blasted swamp.” The injured man said, as he got to his feet and began to slowly make his way back on the path from which we had just come.

Ser Jory looked at me and Alistair as said,

“Did you hear? An entire patrol of seasoned men killed by darkspawn!”

“Calm down Ser Jory, we’ll be fine if we are careful.” Alistair comforted.

“Those soldiers were careful, and they were still overwhelmed. How many darkspawn do you think the six of us can slay? A dozen? A hundred? There is entire _army_ in these forests!” Ser Jory exclaimed, concerned.

But he made a good point, if these darkspawn were as numerous and as clever as they say. We would not stand much of a chance. It would not matter how many Grand Tourneys I’ve won, or how many men Alistair and Ser Jory had slain, we would simply be overwhelmed. But in the back of my mind there was some hope, a wildcard, someone whose power and skill, I had no idea of. Silus, he still seemed a mystery to me, he was silent most of the time, but when he spoke, his voice flowed with an aged wisdom not easily found in people. I was very curious as to what the future would hold…for all of us.

“There are darkspawn about, but we are in no danger of walking into the bulk of the horde.” Alistair once again comforted.

“How do you know? I’m not a coward, but this is foolish and reckless, we should go back.”

“We will just have to fight our way out of trouble then.” I commented

“I still do not relish the thought of encountering an army.” Ser Jory responded.

“Know this Ser Jory: All Grey Wardens can sense darkspawn. Whatever their cunning, I guarantee they won’t take us by surprise. That’s why I’m here. That doesn’t mean I’m here to make this easy, however, so let’s get a move on, we have four vials worth of blood to collect.” Alistair pushed.

I had never heard that the Grey Wardens could sense the darkspawn’s locations. _I wonder how they do it_ , I thought. We walked up the path that had resorted itself. And made our way through some ancient ruined pillars. I saw some…creature crest the hill, and assumed that it was a darkspawn. Alistair was right, these things were monstrous. It had eyes that were far too large for its face. Its jaw muscles were clearly visible, almost as if it was a rotting corpse. It wore rusted armor and proceeded to rush us with extreme aggression. I drew my blade and shield, and prepared for a fight. Ser Jory and Alistair did the same. One of the darkspawn came down with its mace very hard, almost enough to throw me off balance.

  
Alistair came up from behind me and stabbed it through the mouth before it had a chance to react. Ser Jory followed Alistair up the hill where two darkspawn archers were perched. I was barely able to block one of their arrows that was surely flying towards my head with my shield. I began to run in front of Alistair, in my rage, I misjudged how far they were and one of the arrows skimmed my leg, and left a visible gash. I cried out in pain, but continued charging with my shield in front of me. I charged the first archer to the ground, and I stabbed it though the chest. All this, while the other archer was aiming for the killing blow, when Ser Jory caught it’s attention and he damn near cleaved it in half.

“These, are darkspawn, for anyone wanting to know. Here are the vials, you two fill them we might be able to get two full vials from these ones.” Alistair said, breathing heavily.

Alistair handed us the large vials and we began to fill them with the leaking black blood. It was terrible, only a few weeks ago I was bathing in clean bathwater, washing myself with fine soaps. Now? I am covered sweat, and black blood that in all likelihood could kill me, in a smelly swamp, filling vials of black blood for some mysterious ritual.

“Alright, two down, two to go. Let’s keep moving, stay close and don’t wander off.” Alistair stated.

“Of course, Ser Alistair.” I said with heavy sarcasm.

Today, was indeed, the worst day of my life.


	8. A Game of Cat and Mouse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Start the song at the line: “Well, well, what have we here?”

**Song Choice: Witchy Woman 2013 Remaster – Eagles**

Silus POV:

When I saw Alistair, Ser Jory, and Marcus proceed on without us. I made my way to the front of both Daveth and Jasmine. When I did, I swept back my hair, and took in a deep breath of the stench of the swamp. It was horrible. It had been long since I had stepped foot in this place. It could not be a coincidence that I be drawn back here.

“The smell of rotting fish, and nearly-frozen mud. Got to love it.” Daveth complained

“Come. We must find these ruins and these scrolls. They are magically sealed so they should be perfectly intact, I alone know the spell to open this box, and unveil the contents inside. We must also be wary of darkspawn, they will not give you a quick death, and tend to enjoy mortal suffering.” I explained.

As we progressed further, Jasmine continued to look uneasy in the swamp.

“This place is dark, somehow, its weighs on the body, I don’t like it.” Jasmine said, concerned.

“Then let us move, so that we can leave this place all the sooner.” I responded to her complaints

I knew that if any darkspawn where to pick us as their prey, I could dispatch them with little more than a snap of my fingers, but on the off chance that one of them infected one of my charges, I warned them anyway. We pressed on in the opposite direction as Alistair, in an effort to find these Grey Warden ruins. We soon came upon a deep ditch with a path through it, and a fallen tree above it. Hanging from the fallen tree were tied up, recently killed soldiers. The stench was…hard to bear. Their bodies were cut open and lacerated all over. Most of their internal organs were now external. Jasmine took one look and sniff at the bodies, walked off to a nearby tree, keeled over with her hand supporting herself, and vomited onto the sodden ground. Daveth simply stood there, shocked and wordless at what he was seeing.

“Let this be an example of why we fight, to preserve lives that would otherwise be taken, in this most brutal way. Let us press on. The sooner we find these treaties, the sooner we leave.”

It took us about half-an-hour more to find our first signs of ruins. They were ancient pillars that sat opposite to one another either side of the dirt path. I then spotted some dead darkspawn, I kneeled and saw they were still leaking a little bit of blood, they were fresh. Alistair and his men must have cut through them recently.

“Well, they made short work of this lot, it seems” Said Daveth.

“Yes. They did, but these are not enough to fill the vials, they must have gone scouting for more.” I informed  
  


Daveth looked to his right and exclaimed.

“ ‘ey look there boss! It’s a cat!”

I looked over quickly, and saw what seemed to be a well-groomed black housecat, it had a peculiar purple collar around it’s neck. I thought it quite odd for a cat, which seemed like it belonged in some Orlesian noble’s home, to be scampering about in this wretched place. I had some suspicions, mostly due to past experiences. But it’s eyes, they were indeed cat like, but more intense than any cat I had ever seen, I almost glowing golden. It was Like…well never mind it was naught but a feline. The timid cat and I stared at one another for a few more moments, neither of us breaking eye contact, until it quickly ran off into the bushes. Afterwards, I got up from my kneeling position and said.

“Let us continue. We shouldn’t concern ourselves with housecats, when we have important documents to procure.”  
  
“It was clearly interested in you, Silus. Few times have I seen an animal of any kind so _taken_ with someone.” Jasmine said

“Yes well, as interesting as it might be, we must keep moving. Lest we lose precious daylight.” I warned as we proceeded

It was not much longer until we found a large ruin atop a hill, there were darkspawn crawling all over it however.

  
“Jasmine, I want you to flank right, release as many arrows as you can. Daveth, you go left, take them by surprise while they are distracted with Jasmine and I.”

“And yourself?” Asked Jasmine.

“Why, I will walk right in.” I said, as they regarded me with a look that wondered if I had a death wish.

I watched as Jasmine and Daveth snuck past the darkspawn guardians and took their positions. I got up for my crouch and walked in the old ruined entrance. The darkspawn immediately saw me, and before one of the archers could make their move, they received an arrow through the side of their skull. I looked to Jasmine who was giving me a cheeky grin. The other two combatants charged me and I simply stood still, waiting for Daveth to slit their throats before the ever reached me. The plan worked amazingly well. Daveth came from behind and threw one of his daggers into the back of one of the chargers and the second the deflected its wild attack and place his dagger into its throat. I saw reinforcements coming from behind me, approaching the ruins. At that same moment, I saw Alistair, Marcus and Ser Jory come running over the hill from our right flank. I pulled out my staff and eviscerated the first three of the reinforcements. I saw Marcus having some trouble with two of them before Jasmine laid supporting fire, allowing Marcus to land the killing blows easily. Alistair took point with me and helped me fend off the ones that were coming a bit too close. I yelled at Jasmine to find the box while we hold off the darkspawn. After the battle, I asked Alistair if he had gotten the four vials we would need. He confirmed that they were able to slay some more darkspawn to the west of these ruins, and obtain their blood.

“There’s nothing here!” I heard Jasmine exclaim, standing above the broken chest.

“What? How? The darkspawn have no way of breaking though these magical seals. In fact, they were created solely so that darkspawn could not destroy them.” I said, as the rest gathered around to see the fruits of our labor.

“Well, well, what have we here?”  
  


Before I ever turned around, her voice had told me all I needed to know about her. It was as soft as velvet, and was as more alluring than anything in this world could be, jewels, coin, drink, all paled in comparison to the simple sound of her spoken word. Even in all of my years, I had not heard anything so pleasing to my ears, extremely dangerous. When I finally turned to see her, I saw she did not wear…much. Hanging from her shoulders was a purple shawl with and hood on the back, and had feathers randomly adorning her makeshift clothing. My eyes moved further down out primally…to visually search her for weapons, from afar… From the waist down, she wore a long leather skirt of sorts, with many studded straps hanging from the waistline. Her hair was as black as midnight, and looked as soft as silk. She had supple, coal-black, made up lips… She continued to slink down the ancient ramp, radiating confidence, sneaking up on, and now talking to, five well trained warriors, and myself.

“Are you a vulture, I wonder? A scavenger poking amidst a corpse whose bones were long since cleaned?” She asked me, ignoring everyone else, as she slowly, made her down the old, fallen stairway.

With each step of her leather boot heels on the ancient stone, I felt the primal fire within me growing hotter with each passing second. As much as I wanted to, I simply could not pull my eyes away. By now, everyone had now acknowledged her presence, and were on guard, Alistair particularly guarded. Marcus’ youth showing as he seemed to be as dumbfounded as I by her beauty, but continued to keep on guard. Even if he was practically drooling on himself.

I positioned myself in font of everyone protectively, just in case this turned sour, for all of us. As she turned the corner, I caught a better glimpse at her perfectly toned body. She made a point of showing off her curves and skin, most likely to allure, and weaken minds like my own. My mind began to wander away from me and turned to more…unseemly thoughts, but I quickly dispelled them and regained control. _No! I would **not** fall to the whims of this temptress. I have lived too long and am far too powerful to be brought to my knees by the mere presence of this mysterious woman. _I thought.

“Or merely an intruder, come into these darkspawn-filled Wilds of mine in search of easy prey?” The mysterious woman continued to question.

She continued to approach me, as I to stood my ground with a steely gaze tracking her every movement. But it was when I saw her eyes. I knew then what was happening, I remembered, I had seen those eyes twice before now. It was she who was the housecat that was interested in us before, she had to be. Her eyes were the same, intense gold, like warm honey. It reminded me… of a time long past now…

“What say you, hmm? Scavenger or intruder?” She asked once more, now growing impatient with my silence.

“Intruder? And just how exactly are these _your_ Wilds?” I countered, gesturing to the area around me with my arms opened wide.

All continued to stay quiet, perfectly happy us to see us two bicker.

She chuckled in response and answered with,

“Because I know them as only one who owns them could. Can you claim the same?” She sassed, as she began to circle around me, as a predator does to its supposed prey. But would not become prey to this sure serpent of a woman.

As she continued to circle me with great interest in her eyes, she stated,

“I have been watching your progress for some time. “Where do they go?” I wondered, “why are they here?”’

She moved away from me and went to stand on one of the ruined ledges and continued on with her back turned.

“And now you disturb ashes none have touched for so long. Why is that?”

I was about to answer her, that was until Alistair put his hand on my chest and said,

“Don’t answer her Silus. She looks Chasind, and that means others may be nearby.”

He made a valid point, if I was wrong about her and she was nothing more than a distraction for a band of Chasind raiders, then we could be slaughtered, and it would be my own ignorance that would be to blame.

“Ohh, you fear barbarians will swoop down upon you?” She asked Alistair, sarcasm dripping from voice.

“Yes, swooping is bad” Alistair replied.

“She’s a Witch of the Wilds, she is! She’ll turn us into toads!” Daveth commented.

The mysterious woman simply leaned back and smiled.

“Witch of the Wilds? Such idle fancies, those legends. Have you no minds of your own?” She said attempting to curb the dissent.

It was now that I actually took notice of how youthful she really was, she could not have been more than twenty, although looking quite a bit more matured than that, and still possessing the telltale signs of youth.

She again turned her attention towards me

“You there, handsome man. You have been silent so far; tell me your name and I shall tell you mine. Let us be civilized.”

“An odd place for civilized speech don’t you think?” I said looking around at my surroundings.

“But I digress, you may call me Silus. A pleasure…” I answered properly.

“Now that is a proper civilized greeting, even here in the Wilds. You may call me Morrigan, if you wish.” She replied

“Now, shall I guess your purpose? You sought something in that chest, something that is here no longer?” The woman apparently calling herself Morrigan asked.

“ “Here no longer?” You stole them, didn’t you? You’re…some kind of…sneaky…witch-thief!” Alistair accused.

“How very eloquent. How does one steal from dead men?” Morrigan asked, crossing her arms and waiting for a logical response.

“Quite easily, it would seem. Those documents are Grey Warden property, and I suggest you return them.” I fired back, growing vaguely frustrated at her dragging on of this conversation, when she clearly had information that could help us.

“I will not, for ‘twas not I who removed them. Invoke a name that means nothing here any longer if you wish; I am not threatened.” Morrigan stood confidently, not relinquishing her ground.

“If not you, then who removed them?” I asked, curious of her answer.

“‘Twas my mother, in fact” She confessed

“Your mother?” I asked, surprised

“Yes, my mother. Did you assume I spawned from a log?” Morrigan sarcastically said, as she again moved her position to a pillar and leaned on it, looking completely comfortable in her current position.

“A thieving, weird-talking log, perhaps.” Alistair joked.

“Not all in the Wilds are monsters. Flowers grow, just as well as toads.” Morrigan stated

_Indeed,_ I thought. Beauty did, in fact, exist in this cesspit. Morrigan raised her head from her leaned back position, and looked at me and her eyes softened a bit.

“If you wish, I will take you to my mother. ‘Tis not far from here, and you may ask her for your papers, if you like.” Morrigan relented.

“We _should_ get those treaties, but I dislike this…Morrigan’s sudden appearance. It’s too convenient.” Jasmine warned, gesturing towards the newly-appeared woman.

“Why exactly, are you helping us at all?” I asked, hoping for an answer that would enlighten me further on this mysterious woman.

“Why not? I don’t meet many people here. Are you all so mistrustful?” Morrigan responded,  
  


“Wisely cautious I would say; Tell me about this mother of yours.” I inquired,

“She, prefers her privacy, but I imagine she will be curious enough why you are here. Come. See for yourself.” Morrigan informed

“Alright then, I say we go with her.” I finally relented, resulting in a smug smile on Morrigan’s face.

“What a sensible conclusion, I like you…” Morrigan added, looking at me

“I’d be careful, first its, “Oh I like you…” Then, “Zap” frog time!” Alistair mocked

“She’ll put us all in the pot, she will. Just you watch.” Daveth stated

“If the pot is warmer than this forest, it’d be a nice change.” Ser Jory added.

“Follow me, then, if it pleases you.” Morrigan offered

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

We made our way through the path, following Morrigan all of the way. Once we exited the path, we came upon a cabin sat next to a pond. _A quaint little place_. I thought to myself, could this truly be where this beautiful black rose of a young woman sprouted up from? And then I laid eyes upon her mother. A seemingly normal looking old woman, one whom you could probably find, near exact copies of on the streets of Denerim, tending to their flower gardens. But at closer glance…No…no it—it couldn’t be. It was. Flemeth, at long last, surely biding her time here in this cesspool of filth. She was looking quite different from the last time we met, that was certain. Could she truly be Morrigan’s mother? I thought.

“Greetings, Mother. I bring before you six Grey Wardens who—”

“I see them, girl. Mmm, much as I expected.” Flemeth said, looking directly at me.

“Are we supposed to believe you were expecting us?” Alistair asked ignorantly.

“You are required to do nothing, least of all believe. Shut one’s eyes tight or open one’s arms wide…either way, one’s a fool!” Flemeth jested.

“She’s a witch, I tell you! We shouldn’t be talking to her!” Daveth exclaimed

_A wise position._ I thought

“Quiet down, Daveth! If she’s really a witch, do want to make her mad?” Ser Jory advised.

“There’s a smart lad. Sadly, irrelevant in the larger scheme of things, but it is not I who decides. Believe what you will.”

“And what of you? Do you possess a different viewpoint? Or do you believe as the others do?” Flemeth asked Marcus, much to my discomfort.

“Leave the boy be, crone.” I interrupted angerly

“Hush! I will attend to _you soon_.” Flemeth reprimanded.

“Honestly, I’m not sure what to believe at this point.” Marcus admitted truthfully

“A statement that possesses more wisdom than it would at first imply. Be always aware…or is it oblivious? I can never remember.” Flemeth responded.

“And of you? Does your elven mind give you a different viewpoint? What is it you believe” Flemeth continued to harass Jasmine this time.

“I believe you have something we need.” Jasmine responded truthfully

She looked again to Marcus and said,

“So much about you is uncertain…and yet I believe. Do I? Why, it seems I do!” Flemeth analyzed cryptically.

“So, this is a dreaded Witch of the Wilds?’ Alistair asked

“Witch of the Wilds, eh? Morrigan must have told you that. She fancies such tales, though she would never admit it! Oh, how she dances under the moon.” Flemeth confessed laughing at her daughter’s visible embarrassment.

“They did not come to listen to your wild tales, Mother.” Morrigan Interrupted.

“True, they came for their treaties, yes? And before you lot start barking, your precious seal wore off long ago. I have protected these.” Flemeth admitted.

“You…oh. You protected them?” Asked Alistair

“And why not? Take them to your Grey Wardens and tell them this Blight’s threat is greater than they realize!” Flemeth warned.  
  


“What do you mean the threat is greater than they realize?” Jasmine asked

“Well, either the threat is more or they realize less. Or perhaps the threat is nothing! Or perhaps they realize nothing!” Flemeth said, now laughing hysterically at her own realization.

“Time for you to go, then.” Morrigan said.

“Oh, don’t be absurd, girl. These are your guests.”

“Oh, very well. I will show you out of the woods. Follow me.” Morrigan commanded.

As we were walking away, I trailed behind and looked back at where Flemeth was, and she smiled that sick, familiar smile at me. I then began to follow once again.

"It cannot be unrung." I mumbled under my breath, harking back to a time long passed...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So! We see that there is a connection between Silus and Flemeth, but what could that be? Such mysteries must wait to be solved!


	9. Now Comes the Time... for the Joining

**Song Choice: Join the Grey Wardens – Inon Zur**

Jasmine POV:

We entered the safety of Ostagar, and began to make our way to Duncan. I was still trying to comprehend what had just taken place…We were on a routine mission to kill darkspawn and retrieve some scrolls that were magically sealed. Then, this beautiful witch-woman appears from the air itself, grabbing the undivided attention of everyone there, including myself, and proceeds to tell us that the scrolls are no longer where they were placed. Now in the possession of her mother, a Witch of the Wilds herself, all the while keeping a strange amount of attention on Silus.

Making our way to where he stood, we finally approached Duncan and he asked.

“So, you return from the Wilds. Have you been successful?”

“Not that it was easy in any fashion, but yes, we were successful.” Silus responded.

“Good. I’ve had the Circle mages preparing. With the blood you retrieved, we can begin the Joining immediately.”

“Maybe we should tell you about Morrigan, and her mother.” I said.

“There was a woman at the tower and her mother had the scrolls. They were both very…odd.” Alistair added

“We’re they Wilder folk?” Duncan asked, seemingly knowing nothing of these strange people.

“I don’t think so. They might be apostates: mages hiding from the chantry.” Alistair responded to him.

“I would be willing to second that assumption, Duncan.” Silus added in support of Alistair.

“I know you were once a templar, Alistair, but the Chantry’s business is not ours. We have the scrolls, let us focus on the Joining.” Duncan advised sternly.

“Now will you tell us what this ritual is all about?” Marcus asked, redirecting the conversation.

“I will not lie; we Grey Wardens pay a heavy price to become what we are. Fate may decree tonight that you pay your price now rather than later.” Duncan informed somberly

“You’re saying the ritual can kill us?!” I asked frantically.

“As could any darkspawn you might face in battle. You would not have been chosen, however, if I did not think you had a chance to survive.” Duncan explained

“Let’s go, then, I’m anxious to see this Joining now.” Daveth suggested

“I agree, Lets have it done then.” Ser Jory seconded.

I looked to Marcus. He and I looked just as apprehensive as one another to do this ritual. A ritual that could possibly kill us. But since my infection I have needed healing magic to keep me alive. It works less-and-less every time It is used to push back the infection. I can feel myself getting weaker by the day. Duncan said that this ritual was my cure, but it could also just lead to my death. But I guess either way, ill die. So, I really have no choice in the matter, put that way.. But I wondered how Marcus must be feeling, he had no illness that was forcing him to make this decision. All he had, was his drive and will to continue. Something that he told me during our journey here, was running dry. I could see why, the fall of his lands, the complete annihilation of his family and friends. I’d like to think that my will to go on would not diminish, but since Tamlen…I could sympathize.

“Then let us begin. Alistair, take them to the ritual circle in the old temple. Silus, if you would not mind accompanying me to retrieve the chalice, I would appreciate it. I also think we have much to talk about regarding your trip into the Wilds.” Duncan commanded

“I do not mind at all.” Silus responded, with a soft grin on his face, as he and Duncan began to walk in the direction of the chalice, the both of them joking back and forth as they walked off.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Marcus and I approached where Alistair, Daveth, and Ser Jory were standing in the old temple. Ser Jory looked visibly worried, so much so, that he was pacing back and forth.

“The more I hear about this Joining, the less I like it.” I overheard Ser Jory comment nervously.

“Are you blubbering again?” Daveth asked, slightly frustrated with Ser Jory’s nervousness.

“Why all these damn tests? Have I not earned my place?” Ser Jory questioned

“Maybe it’s tradition. Maybe they’re just trying to annoy you.” Daveth joked, earning a slight chuckle from Alistair.

“Calm down the both of you. There’s nothing we can do about it now.” I corrected.

“I only know that my wife is in Highever with a child on the way. If they had warned me…it just doesn’t seem fair.” Ser Jory said, now earning a degree of sympathy from me.

“Would you have come if they’d warned you? Maybe that’s why they don’t. The Warden’s do what they must, right?” Daveth asked

“Including sacrificing us?” Ser Jory replied

“I’d sacrifice a lot more if I knew it would end the Blight.” Daveth stated

It was a harsh way of thinking, but one I could respect. The good of the many will always outweigh the good of the one.

“You make a good point.” Marcus said

“You saw those darkspawn, ser knight. Wouldn’t you die to protect your pretty wife from them?” Daveth inquired

“I…” Ser Jory stuttered out

“You know what? Maybe you’ll die. Maybe we’ll all die. If nobody stops the darkspawn, we’ll die for sure.” Daveth elaborated

“I’ve just never faced a foe I could not engage with my blade.” Ser Jory explained, As Duncan stepped into the old temple ruins and walked past us with a chalice in his hands. All eyes on his every movement.

“At last we come to the Joining. The Grey Wardens were founded during the first Blight, when humanity stood on the verge of annihilation. So it was that the first Grey Wardens drank of darkspawn blood and mastered their taint.” Duncan explained

Ser Jory’s face became pale with worry and he asked.

“We’re…going to drink the blood of those…those creatures?”

“As the first Grey Wardens did before us, as we did before you. _This_ is the source of our power and our victory.” Duncan continued to explain.

“Those who survive the Joining become immune to the taint. We can sense it in the darkspawn and use it to slay the archdemon.” Alistair added

“Let’s get on with it them.” I said, resigning myself to this fate

“Where is Silus in all of this? I assumed he would be here at least.” Marcus asked

“Silus is… a _special_ case. It would be too dangerous for him to be here during the ritual. He is currently discussing strategy with the King and Teyrn Loghain. And that is all that shall be said on the matter.” Duncan said sternly, turning away, to face the ritual chalice.

“We speak only a few words prior to the Joining, but these words have been said since the first, Alistair, if you would?” Duncan asked

Alistair looked down and began to speak the ancient rite.

“Join us, brothers and sisters. Join us in the shadows where we stand, vigilant. Join us as we carry the duty that cannot be forsworn. And should you perish, know that your sacrifice will not be forgotten and that one day we shall join you.” Alistair finished somberly.  
  
Duncan picked up the large crystal chalice filled with the thick, black, liquid inside. He began to turn around and faced Daveth first.

“Daveth, step forward.” Duncan said, handing Daveth the crystal chalice.

Daveth looked at the swishing liquid and cringed before lifting it up to take a drink from the chalice. All of our attention focused solely on his reaction. He looked confused for the first few seconds after drinking, and then, it began. He began stumbling back and put his hand to his head in a brace for pain. He screamed loudly, with his head facing the ground, when he looked back at us, his eyes had rolled into the back of his head, showing only the pale whites.

“Maker’s Breath!” Ser Jory exclaimed

He turned around to Duncan, grunting in pain, before collapsing to his knees and laying down on the cold, tile floor, dead.

“I am sorry, Daveth.”

To say we were all in a state of shock was an understatement. To be told something is dangerous, and then witness its worst possible case scenario, firsthand, it was simply shocking. It is in the same vain as when your parents advised you not to climb the rocky clifface with your friends, as someone could fall. You make a mental note of the possibility in your mind, but press on ignorantly, but when that friend actually falls, you are thrown into a state of utter shock because to you, it could never happen. This was what it was to me, now, standing here, having just watched this man die before my very eyes.

Marcus had his mouth gaping open, still staring at the body, covered in black, infected veins. He didn’t even say a word. I still had my eyes on Daveth’s corpse, half-expecting it to rise from the dead. Anything was possible, after all.

“Step forward, Jory.” Duncan commanded, the firelight from the nearby braziers illuminating half of his face.

Jory proceeded to take a defensive stance, one that he would have been trained to take…when encountering an enemy, immediately drawing Marcus’s attention.

“Jory…” Marcus said concerned.

“But…I have a wife. A child! Had I known…” Ser Jory said, still in shock, as he drew his sword to try and defend himself.

“There is no turning back.” Duncan said, almost menacingly.

“No! You ask too much! There is no glory in this!” Ser Jory exclaimed as he continued backing up.

At this point, Duncan reluctantly drew the dagger at his waist side, and prepared for the worst. Duncan approached him, and Ser Jory swung frantically, being easily blocked by Duncan. Jory would make his second attempt at attack, and it would be countered by Duncan. Duncan finally make his decision, and struck the killing blow. As he stabbed Ser Jory, Duncan seemed to be wholly remorseful, and said.

“I am sorry.”

  
I jumped back at the brutal action taken by Duncan. Marcus stood his ground, but was guarded. I had never expected it to go this way. Two men had already died here tonight. _This was not the way it was supposed the end for them_ , I thought.

“But the Joining is not yet complete.” Duncan said, covered in Jory’s blood.

He moved to Marcus and I. Marcus was still very guarded and so he handed the chalice to me, still very full of that black sludge.

“You are both called upon to submit yourself to the Taint for the greater good.” Duncan commanded

I looked nervously at the chalice as I took it into my hands, Marcus seemingly just as worried by the look he was giving me. I once again thought, _it would either be now that I die, or suffer a long, and grueling death at the hands of the infection I already have._ I lifted the chalice up to my lips and began to drink. It tasted, like the most bitter, dirt-like thing one could imagine. I cringed at the taste. Not feeling much other than it’s tremendously strong taste, until, it hit me. I felt like my stomach was turning in ways I had never even imagined it could twist. Then, it felt as if my blood was on fire. I supported myself on a nearby pillar, and then it went black. And I saw a great, horrifying dragon, it screamed louder than anything I ever heard, like the crashing of an entire mountain at once. I woke soon after, with Marcus and Alistair standing above me.

“Welcome to the Grey Warden Order.” Alistair said cheerily

“There is but one more.” Duncan said, looking to Marcus, who looked around, as if looking for help. But submitted to Duncan’s wishes.

He took the chalice in his hands and drank the last bit of the blood. He seemed to feel it’s effect’s almost immediately. He put his hand to his head, and looked down, bracing himself for the pain to come. He looked up and his eyes where white, just as Daveth’s were before he died.

“No!” I exclaimed, thinking he was going to die here.

“Zu’u unslaad!!! Zu’u nis oblaan!!!” Marcus screamed out, afterwards, passing out onto the floor, just as I had done.

I looked to Duncan and Alistair as he was passed out. Their faces as confused as mine, I’m sure. Duncan, Alistair and myself, stood over him as we saw him about to regain consciousness.

“It is finished, Welcome.” Duncan said to the waking Marcus.

“Two more deaths. In my Joining, only one of us died, but it was…horrible. I’m glad the other two of you made it through.”

When Marcus got to his feet, Duncan asked us.

“How do you two feel?”

“Nothing you said prepared me for… _that._ ” I said, somewhat angrily, for keeping us in the dark for so long, as I pointed at the two dead bodies that lied before us.

“Such is what it takes to be a Grey Warden.” Duncan stated.

“I still can’t believe you killed Ser Jory like that.” Marcus replied.

“Jory was warned that there was no turning back, as were you all. When he went for his blade, however, he left me no choice. It brought me no pleasure to end his life. The Blight demands sacrifices from us all. Thankfully, you two stand here as proof they are not _all_ made in vain.” Duncan explained

“Did either of you have dreams? I had terrible dreams after my Joining.” Alistair asked

This seemingly caught Marcus’ attention quickly.

“I have always suffered from night terrors; started from a young age. But yes, I did dream.” Marcus said, not disclosing what, exactly his dream entailed.

“As did I.” I added

“Such dreams come when you begin to sense the darkspawn, as we all do. That, and many other things can be explained in the months to come.” Duncan informed

“Before I forget, there is one last part to your Joining. We take some of that blood and put it in a pendant. Something to remind us…of those who didn’t make it this far.” Alistair explained somberly, handing us our pendants.

“Take some time to absorb what has happened here. When you are ready, I’d like you both to accompany me to a meeting with the king. The one Silus has been occupied with thus far.”

“I still feel in shock.” I said truthfully.

“Death is never easy to accept, especially when it arrives it such a brutal fashion. Honor your fallen comrades if you wish, but know that we must press forward. Always, we must press forward. The meeting is to the west, down the stairs. Please attend as soon as you are able.” Duncan said, turning away with Alistair in toe.

I went over to the two dead bodies, and said a soft prayer. Then, I beckoned Marcus to follow me to the meeting. We had lost much tonight, but we had to press forward, always.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Zu'u unslaad = I am unending
> 
> Zu'u nis oblaan = I cannot end


	10. Par-for-the-Course

Marcus POV:

As Jasmine and I approached the meeting, we could overhear the current argument between Loghain and Cailan. The current point of contention was if Cailan would be on the battlefield with the Grey Wardens or would be present here in the fort for his safety. As we continued to approach the table, we spotted Duncan, Silus, Loghain, Cailan, a circle mage, and someone who seemed to be the revered mother, all debating the best course of action for themselves and the armies. I was still bothered though, I wondered about something Duncan said during the Joining. He said that Silus was a special case, and that he could not be present for his own safety. So, in my mind, that meant either Duncan is choosing favorites, or something is very wrong here, and it was bubbling just under the surface.

“Loghain, my decision is final. I will stand by the Grey Warden’s in this assault.” The King answered, annoyed.

‘You risk too much, Cailan! The darkspawn horde is too dangerous for you to be playing hero on the frontlines.” Teyrn Loghain said in response.

“If that’s the case, perhaps we should wait for the Orlesian forces to join us after all.” Cailan retorted

“I second this, waiting for reinforcements from Orlais, no matter your past relationship with them, would be the best course of action.” Silus suggested.

“I must repeat my protest to your fool notions that we need the Orlesians to defend ourselves!” Loghain exclaimed, frustrated

“It’s not a “fool notion”. Our arguments with the Orlesians are a thing of the past…and you will remember who is king...” The King reprimanded, trying to regain his authority in the matter.

“How fortunate Maric did not live to see his son ready to hand Ferelden over to those who enslaved us for a century!” Loghain continued, growing even more aggravated.

“Then our current forces will have to suffice, won’t they? Duncan, are your men ready for battle?” Cailan asked

“They are, your Majesty.” Duncan said, looking proudly at, Silus, Jasmine, and myself.

And this is the new recruit, and the young lord from Highever I met earlier? I understand congratulations are in order.” Cailan said

“I don’t feel that special.” I said truthfully, I felt like a grunt with not much more to his name than some tainted blood, coursing through his veins. And a dead name, carried on by dead people.

“Oh, but you are. The both of you. Every Grey Warden is needed now more than ever.” Cailan encouraged.

“Your fascinations with glory and legends will be your undoing, Calian. We must attend to reality.” Loghain warned.

“Although my tendency is to disagree with the Teyrn. He is right, you must try to temper your ambitions your majesty, or it will surely lead to the worst.” Silus also cautioned.

“Fine. Speak your strategies. The Grey Wardens and I draw the darkspawn into charging our lines and then…?” Calian relented, once again resuming his position at the strategy map.

Loghain mirrored Cailan, leaned over the map and said,

“You will alert the tower to light the beacon, signaling my men to charge from cover.” Loghain explained

“To flank the darkspawn, I remember. This is the Tower of Ishal in the ruins, yes? Who shall light this beacon?” Calian interrupted

“I have a few men stationed there. It’s not a dangerous task, but it is vital.” Loghain commented

“Then we should send our best. Send Alistair, and the two new Grey Wardens to make sure it’s done.” Calian ordered.

I took this as a shock. I had just gone through this entire blasted ritual. That had just killed two new friends of mine, and nearly killed myself and Jasmine, all so that, I could fight darkspawn. And for what? To be sent as an errand boy?

“You mean we won’t be fighting in the battle?” Jasmine said

“We need the beacon. Without it, Loghain’s men won’t know when to charge.” Duncan explained.

“You see? Glory for everyone!” Cailan cheered

“You rely on these Grey Wardens too much. Is that truly wise?” Loghain said, worried

“Enough of your conspiracy theories, Loghain. Grey Wardens battle the Blight, no matter where they are from.” Calian said confidently.

“Your Majesty, you should also wisely consider the possibility of the archdemon appearing.” Silus suggested.

“There have been no signs of any dragons in the wilds.” Loghain added.

“Your majesty, the tower and it’s beacon are unnecessary. The Circle of Magi—” The circle mage barged

“We will not trust any lives to your spells, mage. Save them for the darkspawn!” The revered mother interrupted

“And what shall we entrust lives to? Your burning incenses?” Silus questioned, frustrated.

“Enough! This plan will suffice. The Grey Wardens will light the beacon.” Loghain commanded, walking away from the war table.

“Thank you, Loghain. I cannot wait for that glorious moment! The Grey Wardens battle beside the king of Ferelden to stem the tide of evil!” Cailan rejoiced.

“Yes, Cailan. A glorious moment for us all…” Loghain commented, with his back turned to us, earning a look of suspicion from SIlus.

A few minutes later we were all at the pyre in the middle of camp. Duncan preparing to debrief Alistair, Silus, and ourselves, to exact nature of the plan.

“You heard the plan. You, Jasmine, and Alistair will go to the Tower of Ishal, and ensure the beacon is lit.” Duncan repeated

“What?! I won’t be in the battle?” Alistair asked, surprised

“This is by the king’s personal request, Alistair. If the beacon is not lit, Teyrn Loghain’s men won’t know when to charge.” Duncan once again repeated to Alistair.

“So, he needs three Grey Wardens standing up there holding the torch. Just in case, right?” Alistair said, visibly aggravated.

My thoughts exactly. I thought

“I agree with Alistair. We should be present in the battle.” I spoke up.

“That is not your choice. If King Cailan wishes Grey Wardens to ensure the beacon is lit, then Grey Wardens will be there. We must to whatever it takes to destroy the darkspawn…exciting or no.” Duncan explained, growing frustrated with our incompliance.

“I get it, I get it. Just so you know, if the king ever asks me to put on a dress and dance the Remigold. I’m drawing the line. Darkspawn or no.” Alistair said humorously, getting a laugh from everyone except Duncan, who just waited for the laughter to cease.

“Way to take a stand, Alistair.” Silus responded, recovering from his chuckling.

“I have my dignity. Well, some.” Alistair responded, earning a sigh from Duncan.

“To resume my point…The tower is on the other side of the large bridge that crosses the gorge. It was the one we crossed when we first entered. You will need to cross the gorge and head though the gate and up the tower entrance. From the top, you’ll overlook the entire valley.” Duncan explained

“How will we know when to light the beacon?” Jasmine questioned

“We will signal you when the time is right. Alistair will know what to look for.” Duncan continued

“Can we join the battle afterwards?” I asked

“Stay with the Teyrn’s men, and guard the tower. If you are needed, we will send word.” Duncan stated

“What if the archdemon appears?” Jasmine, once again asked

“We all collectively soil ourselves, that’s what.”

“If it does, leave it to Silus and I. I don’t want heroic’s from any of you three.” Duncan ordered

Now I was sure. Duncan was choosing favorites. First, he won’t even let us in the battle. Then he refuses us, even when the worst is to come. Even if the archdemon itself were to appear, we would be told to stay back, while Duncan and Silus would do their good work.

“The battle is soon to begin. Once I leave, move quickly. You’ll have less than an hour. Silus, take your position with the mages on the backline, and do not come onto the frontlines, no matter what. Do you all understand?” Duncan continued to order

“Yes.” We all said in unison.

“Then I must join the others. From here, you three are on your own. Remember, you three are all Grey Wardens, I expect you to be worthy of that title.” Duncan commented

“Duncan…may the Maker watch over you.” Alistair said with concern on his face.

“May he watch over us all…” Duncan replied with finality.


	11. Be Forever Courageous My King, but Never Foolhardy…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has three main POVs and they are all listed with their respective character, along with one third person POV unlisted.

**Chosen Song: Protectors of the Earth– Thomas Bergerson, Two Steps From Hell**

_Jasmine POV:_

As night fell upon the lands, rain began to pour, clouding our vison and cooling the fiery hearts of battle. Covering the greatest spires of this ancient fortress. Lightning bolted in the vast distance, showing but for only a second, the silhouette of the great Tower of Ishal. _We had to destroy the darkspawn here, tonight, or not at all._ I thought.

As I approached the bridge overlooking the gulch. I saw many hundreds of shem soldiers. They were lined to their positions, nervousness and anticipation clear on their faces. The archers, trying to find good vision though the deluge, an issue I could sympathize with. The warriors were visibly the most nervous of them all, knowing they would be the bulwark between darkness and the rest of Ferelden. The war hounds, ignorant of their purpose, outside of their born duty to kill and obey, were ready for whatever came for their masters. The mages, including Wynne, looked deep in thought on the bridge, as if praying, or meditating, Silus now joining them, loudly commanded them to organize themselves into proper formation. I then saw the revered mother, walking between the lines of soldiers in the gulch holding a smoke lamp, one that was burning incense, while softly singing Chant of Light, I assumed, something I was not very familiar with.

Not long after, I saw Duncan and King Cailan take point on the field. I felt nervous for them both. Duncan had come to make an impression on me, he seemed a good and tame man. Cailian, I did not know well, but it was clear that his death would surely send the entire kingdom into chaos if it came to pass. This had the makings of a bloodbath. I could feel it…

An orange glow came from deep in the forest. Fire. Not long after, white fog rolled from the forest’s edge, quickly covering the battlefield. And then they finally came into view, the darkspawn exited the tree line by the hundreds, following in the wake of their dark mists. I could see Marcus’s shocked face to my left as they continued to pour out. I could make out a uniquely armored darkspawn Hurlock that stepped out in front of their lines. I realized it to be their general. It drew its sword and let out a loud yell with it pointed at our frontlines, commanding the horde to charge us. The incalculable amounts of darkspawn all viciously charged the lines

I then heard Cailan counter by commanding the archers to fire their flaming arrows at the charging force. They raised their bows to the night sky and let fly their arrows at the commanding officer’s signal. It began to rain fiery hell down upon the darkspawn horde as they continued their earnest charge. Many dropped to the ground by well-placed flaming arrows. But they would not be stopped by so little as arrows. The King then commanded the war hounds to counter-charge the horde, in hopes of giving his warriors more time. At the dog master’s signal, at least two-hundred hounds charged the horde ravenously, ripping any darkspawn they could get their teeth on to shreds. Some were not so lucky, however, and were quickly slaughtered by the walking monstrosities. I saw Gerard standing next to me with his paws on the bridge railing, snarling at the action on the field.

I then heard the King call out,

“FOR FERELDEN!!!” As he, Duncan, and the Ferelden forces finally charged the horde, all violently standing against the raging tide of darkness quickly approaching them. Although I did not know them, I could respect these shemlen for their courage.

Then, large flaming rocks came hurdling near our location of the bridge.

“ARTILLERY!!” Silus called out to protect his mages, as the largest of the rocks impacted one of the spires, destroying it totally.

“GET TO THE TOWER!” Silus looked at us and yelled, bringing his focus back to assisting the soldiers on the ground with his spells.

Soldiers came rushing through the entrance to the bridge and almost knocked me over while I was distracted with incredible destruction of the darkspawn.

  
We crossed the bridge as fast as we could, as artillery relentlessly continued to rain down from the skies and onto the forces stationed at the bridge, including Silus’ mages. The Balistas continued their counter assault as best they could against the unforeseen artillery fire.

Once myself, Marcus, Gerard, and Alistair made our way across the bridge we saw a mage and a soldier, seemingly of Teyrn Loghain’s men come rushing out of the tower.

“You..You’re Grey Wardens, aren’t you? The tower…it’s been taken.” The soldier approached us, out of breath and covered in blood.

“What are you talking about man? Taken how?” Alistair questioned loudly over the noise of battle.

“The darkspawn came up from the lower chambers! They’re everywhere! Most of our men are dead!” The scared soldier replied.

“Then we have to get to the beacon and light it ourselves!” Marcus added.

Just then, two darkspawn hurlocks bursted through the main entrance to the tower and shot their arrows, killing the mage, and wounding the soldier who was standing in front of us, causing him to collapse and fall unconscious. I was able to shoot, and kill one of them. And Gerard rushed, and leaped onto the darkspawn ripping its face to pieces before it could let off another arrow.

We all quickly ran inside the tower entrance and quickly blocked off the entrance, so as to keep out any intruders. Once we turned around…it was horrible, there were corpses of Loghain’s men laid around the floor, half of them looked as if they were tortured before they died. I could smell the horrible stench of burning corpses in the main chamber, the darkspawn had been busy.

We encountered a few darkspawn in the main chamber after proceeding further. There was one unique darkspawn that was using _magic._ Until then, I did not even know they could use magic. I guess I assumed something so vile could never be able to wield something that had the potential to be so beautiful and great. Alistair quickly dispatched the magic-casting darkspawn, assumedly from his training as a Templar. After me and Marcus and I dispatched the darkspawn archers, Alistair looked at us and said.

“Maker’s Breath! What are these darkspawn doing ahead of the rest of the horde? There wasn’t supposed to be any resistance here!” Alistair exclaimed confused.

I turned around and asked,

“Weren’t you just complaining that you wouldn’t get to fight?”

“Hey, you’re right. I guess there is a silver lining here, if you think about it. At any rate, we need to hurry! We need to get to the top of the tower and light the signal fire in time! Teyrn Loghain will be waiting for the signal!” Alistair exclaimed, commanding us to push forward. As we did, we continued to make our way, floor, by floor, destroying all opposition, and making our way to the top of the tower. Once we made it, we sprinted until we saw…this nearly unexplainable beast awaiting us. It had large curved horns at least the size of a man at its tip. Gnashing, bloody, teeth and tusks protruding from its mouth. It had a pushed-in nose and eyes. Its sheer gargantuan size was at least that of five or six men stacked on top of one another. It had grey and purple skin, with long pointed ears. When we found it, it was hunched over, and by the sounds of it, was feasting on something…or someone, and we completely stopped in our tracks, even the hound.

It sniffed the air, and caught sight of us, causing it to get to its feet, and it roared at us so loud that it made my ears chime. It put its head down and charged us, we all scattered in different directions. Marcus got to his feet after jumping out of the way and tried to slash it wherever he could, the heels becoming a favorite spot. I pulled out my bow, and notched and arrow, and let it fly and accurately as I could. I was able to pin a shot into the back of its neck, casing it to roar in pain and turn its attention to me. I will not lie, that moment was probably the most scarred I had been in my life. When it turned it’s hellish gaze on me, determined that I be it’s next, well earned, meal. It ran at me quickly and I jumped out of the way. Gerard the came from behind and bit down, hard, on its leg, earning a loud crunch emanating from its now wounded leg. Gerard was swatted away like a command pest, he hit the ground and yelped.

“NO!! GERARD!!” Marcus worriedly exclaimed, quickly turning his concern into rage.

Marcus then dropped his shield and rushed the incredible beast. Although the beast was ready for him, catching him its grasp. And before it could kill him with its forceful punch. I let loose an arrow to it’s cold, black eye. It screamed it horror at what I had done, and it dropped Marcus to the ground, who took the chance to kill the beast. Marcus expertly stabbed the monster in its thigh, bringing it to its knees. He then made the killing blow, by placing his blade straight tough the bottom of its jaw, and then it went limp, and fell to the ground.

I ran over to check on the valiant war hound while Alistair went to see Marcus’s condition. I placed my ear on its neck, and it was unconscious, but was breathing, slowly however.

“He’s alive!” I said , to Marcus’s visible relief.

Alistair took one of the burning logs that were in the top chamber and carefully placed it into the small opening containing the pile of dry wood, which I assumed was the beacon. Soon, it started to roar with flame, the likes of which I had never seen, I backed away because of its heat. I tiredly smiled at Alistair and Marcus, a signal that we had done our duties well.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

**Chosen Song: The Betrayal – Inon Zur**

Down on the field where Loghain and his army awaited the signal, Loghain, and his general. had finally been given the signal for his men to charge, later than he had at first expected. The great fires plumed from the top of the Tower of Ishal, telling Loghain to muster his men, and charge the horde, to stop the Blight once and for all, tonight.

“Sound…the retreat.” Loghain said seriously.

His female general looked shocked at his command and attempted to suggest.

“But… what about the king? Should we not—” She said

Loghain firmly grabbed hold of her arm, looked into her eyes with sinister fire.

“Do as I command!”

She contemplated for a second and then relented, breaking Loghain’s hold on her, and then turned around to order his army to turn around, and flee the field of battle.  
  


“Head out, all of you! This is a retreat! C’mon let’s move!” She commanded loudly, as the entirety of Loghains forces marched away from the conflict.

Loghain then turned his head to the roaring signal fire I defiance, and then fell in with his men to retreat himself to safety.

**\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

**Chosen Song: Vlad vs. 1000 – Ramin Djawadi**

_Silus POV:_

I saw the signal fires burst from the top of the tower, and rejoiced. _Now the Teyrn’s men will charge and this Blight will be no more, and I will finally go home._ I thought, but it was not to be… I continued to keep up my own assault as well as continue to coordinate the other mages for a few more moments. Waiting to catch sight of the renewed force. _What’s happened? W-Where is Loghain’s fucking men?_ I thought. That is until I quickly ran to the other side of the bridge and saw Loghain’s army…leaving? They were leaving their king…to die? What could have possessed them to do this? I had many questions at that moment, too many to answer, but I knew now that these reinforcements would not arrive, thus my duty was all the more important, so I returned to my station. That is when I saw it, I saw Cailan and Duncan fighting side-by-side, killing all that sought strike down the King. I saw Duncan freeze for a moment while Calian was distracted with two darkspawn in front of him. Duncan tuned at the very last moment to see an Ogre charge him simply batting him aside, and rush king Cailan, taking him forcefully within his grasp. Cailan, now helpless, simply took one last look into its soulless eyes, as it examined him, and roared intimidatingly, earning a pitiful scream from Cailan before easily crushing the King of Ferelden in his metal shell, instantly killing him, and then tossed his lifeless body aside. Duncan, visibly wounded and bleeding, got to his feet stubbornly and saw that the King was now dead. In his rage, he rushed the regicidal beast with all the speed and grace that he possessed in his younger years. He jumped at the ogre with his daggers above his head and stuck them into the chest of the monster, while still hanging on. He continued to climb the beast with his daggers until he made his way to its jugular, and placed one last piercing blow, killing it.

It was at this point that I made the decision to rush down to the field, Duncan needed my help. _I will not let him die, not after everything._ I thought. I made my down to the battlefield, much to the confusion of my comrades. I took my staff in my hands and stood in front of a wounded Duncan, much to his surprise. _I would destroy them! I would destroy them all! And if I fell…then…then it would be a fitting ending_ I thought, as I continued to annihilate, eviscerate and, incinerate, everything that dared approach him. There were hundreds still, even after I felt as if I had killed a thousand, I could feel myself weakening. _It seems you have lost a bit of your touch in all this time._ I thought to myself. I looked around me in a bout of surreal emotion as time seemed to slow around me I saw the ashes of these vile creatures blow away from this field on the cold, crisp winds. After I had fought off one of their waves, it apparently gave Duncan enough time to call be over his laying body.

“Vlad…Vlad…!” Duncan summoned, heaving from his wounds.

I was ripped from my flow of concentration by that. I was shocked he called me by that name, it had been so many months since… I had almost gotten used to…

“Stop this…charade. Even you cannot defeat the entire horde yourself. You know that.” Said Duncan

“And what, do you want me to leave you?! Leave you to die?! That’s not why I came here, Duncan!” I replied defiantly  
  


“That is exactly what you are going to do. If you stay here, you will die…and so will they.” Duncan explained, gesturing to the tower of Ishal.

I looked at him for some glimmer, some sign that this was all an elaborate trick, that he would start laughing at my emotional face. That he would get up, and we would finish this battle, and afterwards return to our tent to share a drink or two.

“I ask of you…one last favor. I regret that I cannot be there for them during this turbulent time, I have failed my duty…” Duncan explained solemnly, looking at the bloodied corpse of the late king.

“So, I ask you, save them, if you can…take them, guide them...and protect them, and in the final hour they will be Ferelden’s last hope. But you must leave me, I have lived a good life…do not sacrifice those whose lives hold great, unknown potential, for an old man whose time has long since been hurdling towards him.” Duncan said.

I somberly nodded my head at his request, accepting his reasoning. And stood from my kneel above him and turned away.

“Oh! And one more thing!” Duncan exclaimed, getting to his feet, bleeding and exhausted.

“You _cannot_ let the darkness consume you ever again…old friend.” Duncan said with finality, as I confirmed with another nod.

I let my old, dark magics flow though me once again, turning me into a cloud of black smoke and bats. The rush was admittedly…exhilarating. It had been long since I had channeled this power. But I would need to use it to save them…otherwise, all was lost, and I would let down my last friend this world. That…was something I could _not_ abide.

**\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

**Song Choice: Take on Me – Wendy Wang, Inga Roberts**

_Marcus POV:_

  
_What was happening!!_ I thought. We lit the beacon. Why were we still facing resistance here?! Darkspawn kept forcing their way in from every conceivable area, and we were trapped in this little stone chamber at the top of a tower. This looked to be the end in my eyes, and the worst part was…deep down…I was okay with that. These past few weeks and days have taught me only one thing: that death is not the worst thing that can happen to someone. I have lived to see my family’s honor desecrated and destroyed. I have seen my friends with whom I had grown up, die in place of myself. My brother, Fergus, and my father’s men were still out there when the horde marched through and…well I just have to hope he died well.

I looked to my right and Jasmine continued her assault on any darkspawn that would enter her deadly sights. She was relentless. I continued to slash, and kick them right back from whence they came, down the staircase. After a while, they started to grow too much for us to hold back at our original position, and we fell back to where the still-burning beacon was. We did all that we could until the blasted darkspawn archers had arrived and took us by surprise. I looked to my left and saw Alistair receive an arrow to the shoulder and another to his gut just after, he immediately keeled over and tumbled into unconsciousness. I then felt the sting not long after with three arrow strikes, sending me falling back to the floor. Jasmine received the same vicious treatment a few moments after me. My vison started to go black, and some part of me welcomed the eternal peace that awaited on the other side…the hard part was over, now I could finally rest… my family would wait for me on the other side, I had done what I could, and I would die knowing I did my best, but the tide of darkness had raced beyond me.

As my vision began t flicker, something caught my fading attention. A cloud of black smoke and… _bats_? _What in the Maker’s blood is this kind of darkspawn come to finish us off?_ I thought. Hoping it would at eh very least be a quick death to come. But it was no darkspawn, I could not make out any faces...All I knew was that it ripped and tore through the darkspawn invaders like it were naught but child’s play. I was sure I had maintained consciousness for longer than Jasmine or Alistair at this point…but my mind was so captivated by this figure. It zoomed and zagged back and forth with incredible speed, using its long, blade-like claws protruding from its fingers to silence all darkspawn that approached him. Until… what seemed like a giant ball of artillery fire hit him directly where he was standing, in front of the tower window. I could hear a loud...almost—human-like scream come from it as it writhed in pain, completely engulfed in fire…and it all faded away into the void…

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_“ **VEN MUL RIIK**!” I heard the ethereal voice shout in frustration._

_“Does his strength have no end? Is our struggle in vain?” Asked the man I knew as Hakon_

_“Stand fast! His “strength” is failing! Once more and his might will be broken!” Responded the woman I knew as Gormlaith_

_“ **LOK…VAH KOOR!!”** We all shouted in unison, clearing away this foul creature’s soul snare once and for all! Endless wait gives way to battle! Alduin’s doom, his death or ours!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lok = Spring
> 
> Vah = Sky
> 
> Koor = Summer
> 
> Ven = Wind
> 
> Mul = Strength 
> 
> Riik = Gale  
> \----------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
> That is a huge chapter out of the way, now! However, I believe the next one wont be arriving for the next few days, seeing as I will be more than likely very busy during that time. After that chapter gets posted, which is the last of the prewritten ones, it will likely be a week's separation between chapter posting to give me time to write and edit WIP chapters.


	12. The Aftershock and the New Beginning

**Chosen song: Awake – Jeremy Soule**

Silus POV:

With my eyes still shut, I stirred to the curious smell of strongly scented herbs and the crackles and pops burning wood. I continued to smell my new environment with great interest. I could smell musty leather, and feel that I was most certainly laying on a bed of some kind and no longer a cold stone floor. I could hear liquid boiling a nearby pot, and smell its mysterious contents from here. I could even smell…lavender? It smelled like a refined fragrance, not like the plant itself. It was a subtle difference but it was there. It was then that I remembered…the girl from the wilds had a similar smell. It all started to come together in my mind, but that realization only served to create more questions. My mind soon raced to reminisce…Duncan…didn’t deserve that death. He deserved an honorable death, not to have his body torn to pieces by those savages. I the wondered if I was even able to save the recruits and Alistair. If I abandoned Duncan…and wasn’t even able fulfill his final wish…

I the opened my eyes and found myself inside of…a cabin? Ah, yes. This must have been the cabin in the swamp that Flemeth resided in with her daughter... Its walls were white, and the paint seemed to be old, and cracked in most places, most likely because of the moisture, as she did choose to live in a swamp. I turned my head to see a small mouse looking up at me, and I promptly turn away from me as dashed out of the home though a small opening in the floorboards. I wondered what a small mouse would think of the world it lives in. Being hunted and eaten by anything that was bigger than it and happened to have an appetite that day, if it were to make the smallest of wrong turns or careless moves. It was no wonder that It was fearful of the world around it, everything else just seemed so much…bigger, and just that much harder to conquer. Almost as if, no matter what, there was no way it could outrun the cat. My eyes turned to look and saw dim light peeking through the window and illuminating the adjacent old, wooden shelves, so rotted they threatened to collapse at a moment’s notice. I could feel the cost of my idiotic stunt at the tower waning on me. I needed to get the bottle, and quickly...or risk grave consequences. I sat up in bed and then I took notice of her, focused on the shelves, looking for something in-between those dusty old tomes. I leaned further to try and get a better view of what she was doing. That was when I realized I was almost completely bare. To my surprise I only had on my small-clothes on now. She turned her head to me at the sound of my rustling, and softly smiled.

“Ah, your eyes finally open. Mother shall be pleased.” She said, walking over to me, now sitting on the bed.

“I remember you: the girl from the wilds.” I said, for the life of me I could not recall her name, so much had happened in such little time. I felt as if yesterday was an eternity of its own.

“I am Morrigan, lest you have forgotten. And we are in the Wilds, where I am bandaging your wounds.” She informed. I continued to wonder how it was that I ended up here. For but at moment, I rejoiced and all of this was a horrible dream; a cruel trick.

“You are welcome by the way. How does your memory fare? Do you remember mother’s rescue?” Morrigan asked with a curious look

At that I froze. _Flemeth saved me?_ I thought. But why? Why go through that to save me when she could have just let the others die and left me to suffer. I had never known Flemeth to do _anything_ out of the kindness of her heart. It was all very confusing and I was determined to find out more from her daughter.

“She rescued me? You mean from the tower?” I asked, wanting to find more information on Flemeth’s _real_ motivations. I also wanted to know if she had even taken the time to rescue the others or if she took me from that tower out of spite. Somehow knowing Duncan’s last request and denying it.

“Mother managed to save you, and your friend, though ‘twas a close call. What is important is that you all live.” Morrigan continued to inform

So, she had saved us all…but that still did not answer _why_. It would have taken much less effort and time to simply let us die there. This had the makings of a plot, and I was determined to find out what she wanted, and why.

“The man who was to respond to your signal quit the field. The darkspawn won your battle.” Showing her awkwardness at having to deliver  
  


It was true then, Loghain Mac Tir had fled, and left his king to die, condemning Ferelden to utter destruction. And otherwise dooming Duncan to death. He would pay sooner or later…he would pay…

“Those he abandoned were massacred. Your friend…he is not taking it well.” Morrigan added.

“My friend? You mean Alistair or…?” I asked, trying to mine for as much information as I could.

“The suspicious, dim-witted one who was with you before, yes.”

“Were my injuries severe?” I asked, vividly remembering the searing pain that radiated throughout my body. I felt as if there was no escape, it was only flame. In that moment I would have toppled and empire for a pale of water.

“Yes, but I expect you shall be fine. The darkspawn did nothing mother couldn’t heal.” Morrigan informed  
  


I assumed that was her best way of describing Alistair. I could sympathize with him; he had a hard childhood and Duncan was one of the few people he truly found comfort in and looked up to as a father figure. Huh…the irony….

“He and the others await you outside by the fire. Mother asked to see you when you awoke.” Morrigan said

I looked down for a moment, letting all that has happened sink in. My thoughts were awry, scattered…I rarely ever got like this, but this seemed to be a perfect occasion. I was thankful that I still lived, but I needed to know more. I tossed my legs over the side of the bed and looked up at Morrigan meeting her intense yellow eyes.

“Thank you for helping me, Morrigan, truthfully.” I humbly said, even though I was sure that her mother requested that she be the one to attend to me.

“I…you are welcome, though mother did most of the work. I am no healer.” Morrigan stammered awkwardly. She averted her gaze after she said it, almost...embarrassed that she did not know how to respond to the kind words.

“Well, I best be going then.” I said breaking the silence, as I got up from the bed still in nothing but small-clothes.

“Ah yes, I almost forgot.” Morrigan said, as she looked me up and down. She waked over to the old rocking chair in front of the fireplace. She leaned over and picked up something in her arms, it looked like folded…clothing? She walked back over to me and handed me the clothes.

I took the clothing and looked at her with a confused look.

“Where is my armor? And my other things? I asked her.

“Melted, it was no longer functional, so Mother discarded it. To my amazement, she specially made the clothes just for you. As for your other things, the only other thing that survived was this leather satchel. Once you are done dressing make your way outside and I will stay, and cook something to eat.” Morrigan explained as I went over and hastily grabbed my satchel and rustled though it, finding some coin, a combing brush, and a…bottle full of red. _Ah, yes…this was it._ I looked at it for a moment…this would be the first time in—who knows how long. But it needed to be done now because of my carelessness. I then took the bottle and gulped down the entirety of the thick, red contents, and immediately started to feel relief. Recomposing myself I approached Morrigan and took the new clothing she had offered just for me.

“Well aren’t I a special one.” I responded sarcastically. They were probably laced silver buckles, just to annoy me.

I unfolded the clothes and laid them out on the bed. There was a linen shirt that was a dark red that had an extenuated ‘V’ neck style, with a high collar and leather straps and buckles that seemed to be for over armor. _Very Rivainian_ , I thought, as I proceeded to the next article of clothing. I saw the black leather trousers that seemed bit small, but were most likely meant to fit tightly around the thighs. Then I looked at the boots, they were knee-high and looked to be made out of fine, hardened druffalo leather, with matching bracers. I began to wonder how she got her old hands on all of these fine materials, it’s not like she was traveling Thedas, looking for the latest trends in fashion straight out of Orlais. Then I looked at the final piece, and in some nostalgic way, made me grin a bit. It was an over armor leather robe that hung down past my boot line. It was sleeveless in its covering and seemed to again be made from the same, fine, hardened leather that the boots were and was also black in color. It had an emphasized collar whose tips rose nearly to my jawline and wrapped around my neck, as a guard. It copied the same plunging style of the shirt, and even had some metal studded spikes adorning the tops of my shoulders for “flare’ I assumed. _It seemed like it would fit together quite well._ I thought as I proceed to dress myself.

Everything fit nearly perfect. _It seemed old crone knew more about me than she let on_. I thought. I then approached the door of the cabin and awaited to face the music…

I walked out to see Marcus sitting on the mossy bank of the pond that was in front of Flemeth’s cabin. Jasmine was standing over, carving something in a tree. I even spotted the Cousland boy’s hound, chewing on a stick. Something that I could not quite make out, although she seems to be doing it slowly, whatever it was. Then, I saw Alistair standing, his back turned to me, also facing the small pond, and Flemeth facing directly at the doorway though which I had just came through.

“See? Here is your fellow comrade. You worry too much, young man.” Flemeth said with vindication in her voice.

They all immediately dropped whatever they were doing and turned to face me. All highly anticipating an answer as to my survival I assumed.

“You…you’re alive! I thought you were dead for sure.” Alistair said with a solemn voice.

“I’m fine, but I appreciate your concern.” I brushed off.

“This doesn’t seem real. If it weren’t for Morrigan’s mother, we’d be dead on top of that tower.” Alistair responded

Yes…Something I intended to find out more information on, before making my final verdict on her _actual_ motivations.

“Do not talk about me as if I am not present, lad.” Flemeth barged

“I didn’t mean…but what do we call you? You never told us your name.” Alistair stumbled

“Ah… yes, what _do_ we call you?” I asked with a great spitefulness

“Names are pretty, but useless. The Chasind folk call me Flemeth. I suppose it will do.” She said, finally revealing her identity to the rest.

“ _The_ Flemeth from the legends? Daveth was right—you’re a Witch pf the Wilds, aren’t you?” Alistair questioned, confusion and shock written upon all of their faces.

“And what does that mean? I know a bit of magic, and It has served you all well, has it not?” Flemeth retorted

“So why _did_ you save us?” Marcus asked, seemingly as curious as I was.

“Well, we cannot have all the Grey Wardens dying at once, can we? Someone has to deal with these darkspawn. It has always been the Grey Wardens’ duty to unite the lands against the Blight. Or did that change when I wasn’t looking?” Flemeth asked

“The land his hardly united, thanks to Loghain.” Jasmine stated, seemingly still reeling from his betrayal.  
  
“That still doesn’t make any sense! Why would he do it?” Alistair asked, yet another question I was _extremely_ curious about.

“Now that is a good question. Men’s hearts hold shadows darker than any tainted creature. Perhaps he believes the Blight is an army he can outmaneuver. Perhaps he does not see that the evil behind it is the true threat.” Flemeth analyzed.

“The Archdemon.” Alistair realized.

“What is this, Archdemon exactly?” Jasmine asked, wanting to know more about what she was fighting.

At this question, Flemeth looked at me and ginned, much to my discomfort.

“It is said that, long ago, the Maker sent a powerful messenger to send the Old Gods of the ancient Tevinter Imperium to slumber in prisons deep beneath the surface. An archdemon is an Old God awakened, and tainted by the darkspawn. Believe that or not, history says it’s a fearsome, immortal thing. And only fools ignore history.” Flemeth educated

“Then will you help us end the Blight then, Flemeth?” Marcus spoke up and asked.

“Me? I am just an old woman who lives in the Wilds. I know nothing of Blights and darkspawn.” Flemeth admitted.

“Well…whatever Loghain’s insanity, he obviously thinks the darkspawn are a minor threat. We must warn everyone this isn’t the case.” Alistair said.

“And who will believe you? Unless you think to convince this Loghain of his mistake?” Flemeth argued

“He just betrayed his own king! If Arl Eamon knew what he did at Ostagar, he would be the first to call for his execution!” Alistair intensely shot back.

“Is this Arl Eamon important?” Jasmine asked

“I suppose…Arl Eamon wasn’t at Ostagar; he still has all his men. And he was Cailan’s uncle. I know him. He’s a good man, respected in the Landsmeet. Of course! We could go to Redcliffe and appeal to him for help!” Alistair realized

“Surely there are other allies we could call upon?” Marcus asked.

“Of course! Marcus you are a blessing from the Maker himself! The treaties! Grey Wardens can demand aid from dwarves, elves, mages, and other places! They’re obligated to help us during a Blight!” Alistair revealed

“I may be old, but dwarves, elves, mages, this Arl Eamon, and who knows what else…” Flemeth trailed off, looking directly at me once again.

“this sounds like an army to me.”

  
“So, can we do this? Go to Redcliffe, and these other places and…build an army?” Alistair questioned.

“Why not? Is that not what Grey Warden’s do?” Marcus asked, with a sparkle in his eye, a dream of new purpose.

“So, you are set, them? Ready to finally be Grey Wardens?” Flemeth asked them.

“As ready as we’ll ever be, I’m afraid.” Jasmine responded.

“Ha, I’m not so sure about _that._ You see, there is some knowledge this old woman must impart to you young lot about one of the members of your not-so-merry little band.” Flemeth started

“And what would that be?” Marcus asked.

“First, a question. Do any of you recall when I recounted the events that led to your rescue, I told you that your friend here, Silus, was on the battlefield, when your signal fire was denied, and the darkspawn began to overwhelm your position in the tower?” Flemeth said, observing the confused expressions on everyone’s faces. I knew what she was about to do, but I wish it did not have to be _this_ way. But it was time to face the music.

“Tell me, how does one travel from an overrun, bloodbath of a battlefield, to the top of a tower in such little time?” Flemeth asked, directing her question at me. I continued to stay silent, and let her continue her pressure, I would not break for her.

“Now, I’m sure you were all told of stories and legends of the vampire. Probably when you were very young, and your mothers or fathers wanted to scare you into doing your chores. You should know girl, I believe your people even have a unique name for them, do they not?”  
  


“Yes… _Ir’vera-ol-slin._ ” Jasmine responded, still visibly confused as to the goal of Flemeth’s line of questioning.

“And what does that mean?” Flemeth asked Jasmine

“It means, Taker of Blood.” Jasmine admitted

“An appropriate name then; they are rare, but most that are found these days are monstrous mockeries of life that live in the dank pits of far-flung caves. Perfectly fit to tear apart men with ease, and feast upon their warm blood for survival.” Flemeth informed

“But you see, those aren’t much more than feral. However the oldest, and most powerful, of vampires are completely undetectable, they can appear just as any other man is, _perfectly._ You would never even know you were standing by one…” Flemeth trialed off finally turning her attention back to me. I could hear the high-pitched squeal of the old door hinges, most likely signaling that Morrigan had arrived to the scene. What great timing…

“Is that not correct…Dracula?” Flemeth revealed

I put my head down in shame at her revelation. What else was I to do? I kept the truth from the new recruits, and Alistair for the entire time I had known him. But what could I tell them? That I was DRACULA?! Prince of Darkness and Lord of Shadow, come to suck them dry of their blood? And make them my mindless thralls for the rest of eternity. Duncan was right, it was time to end this aimless charade, Duncan was no more, and there was barely any Grey Warden order to even to bind my secret, my purpose was forfeit, and so it would only do them harm to not know now. Soon, I looked to Jasmine who was too surprised to even speak, and Alistair simply chuckled nervously and said.

“Alright, I _was_ following you there for a little while. But you expect me to believe he is a vampire, and not only that, _the_ vampire?”

“I expect you to _believe_ nothing, but I already can see one of you seems to be more welcome to the idea.” Flemeth said, turning to Marcus.

  
He looked extremely panicked, almost on the verge of hyperventilating. _Damn it! He must’ve seen something, otherwise why would he act in this manner?._ I thought. He approached me with quick, but forceful steps.

“Look me in the eyes and tell me that it’s not true. Tell me, that you didn’t appear out of thin _ploughing_ air in that tower. T-That you didn’t grow claws out of your hands and… Just tell me none of that happened, and it was all just a mad hallucination or a bad dream!” Marcus said, visibly hurt.

I looked down and contemplated for a moment; this boy had been through so much…He had lost his entire heritage, his parents, his brother. Betrayed by a man he had once known as a friend, and then betrayed by Loghain, a man he knew to be an excellent strategist, and could very well be the thing that would have won that battle. Now was I going to lie to him and betray him once more, or tell him the truth and spare him later on.

“It’s all true…all of it…I-I’m sorry.” I responded with great shame. Marcus simply just stumbled back and sat down, his head facing the ground, waiting for an explanation.

“I am not the man I have led you to believe that I am. And for that I sincerely apologize.” I said, resulting in a tired, frustrated scoff from Marcus

“I am not Silus Alucard Cronvist but…” I trailed off, finding it difficult to expose these unfortunate souls to my nature, a revelation that was bound to haunt them until their dying day.

“Go on…” Flemeth drove

“But I am, in fact, Vlad Dracula Tępes.” I finally admitted.

“Alright then, ill bite, if you are the legendary Dracula, as you say, why would he even bother with the Grey Wardens anyway?” Alistair asked, still not convinced completely by my words.

“Because of Duncan, A few months ago I arrived at Duncan’s request, as you know, to serve as a liaison for the Grey Warden Order. What you did not know is that I was not sent by the Magisterium of Tevinter. I was contacted directly by Duncan himself.” I explained

“But—how would Duncan even know to contact you? What connection would he have to an ancient being like yourself?” Alistair continued to inquire, still not truly believing what I was saying.

“I helped him, once, long ago—unfortunatley we did not end on good terms, he and I—and then, nearly 6 months ago, he sent for my help once again—on a matter that was of particular interest to me.” I explained.

“Well…Marcus may believe you, but you have yet to actually prove _anything_ you’re saying, you could just be having us all on, for some sick joke.” Alistair continued on in denial.

“Fine then, have any of you silverite?” I asked to the unanimous shaking of heads, denying my request.

“Bah! Steel will do just as well I suppose…” I trailed off as I drew Alistair’s sword from its sheath and turned to see if everyone in attendance would bear witness, I even saw Morrigan, who was as interested as anyone in what was about to unfold, I took the edge of the blade and placed it firmly on my forearm after rolling the new red sleeves up first.

  
“Hey!” Alistair exclaimed in surprise, lunging forward to take back his property instictfully.

I put my hand up to stop him from taking the blade before I was done with it.

“Hold. For but a moment, and I will prove to you what I am.”  
  
I proceeded to try and push the blade’s edge and drag it across my forearm, only for it to draw blood, quickly as it had come however, the split skin conjoined again and the bloodshed was nonexistant, I and glanced at everyone’s face around me. All expect Flemeth had an unavoidable look of awe plastered on their face. For them, it was a simple law of the universe, a blade is built for the expressed purpose of rending one’s mortality. To see a tool, handcrafted for a specific purpose, fail so utterly at its use…it must have been dumbfounding; it’s good to see that mortals _never_ change. Always so awestruck by anything that does not befit their meager outlook on reality. After thoroughly making my point, I held the blade out to Alistair, silently beckoning him to retrieve it from my hand…if he dared so…

With some hesitance, he lightly stepped over to me, stretched his arm out as far as he could, so as to not get too close to me I assumed. And quickly grabbed the sword from my hands.

“I have made my case. Now, I _know_ you all have questions, ten, a hundred, maybe even thousands running amuck in your minds right now, but we must _try_ and focus ourselves on the matter at hand. But I promise, I will do my best to explain… _everything in do time._ ” I added, trying to herd their scattered brains back to the object at hand. The sooner we left this cottage, the sooner we make it to Denerim, and I take my blissful revenge on Loghain.

“Indeed. Now…before you go, there is yet one more thing I can offer you.” Flemeth said, much to my surprise. She was not one to _offer_ things, and most definitely not without a horrible price to exact.

Morrigan now saw it high time to make her formal entrance into the conversation. She did not try to avoid me as she stepped past, so confident was she that I would not lash out, and separate her torso from her legs in one foul sweep of my claws. _Perhaps it was an act?_ I thought, but it was not for me to say. She simply strode to her mother, and delivered the intended message she had.

“The stew is bubbling, Mother dear. Shall we have four guests for the eve or none?” Morrigan asked, looking at Alistair, Marcus, Jasmine, and myself.

Flemeth turned her attention to her daughter’s question.

“The Grey Wardens and their band will be leaving shortly, girl. And you will be joining them.” Flemeth responded.

I regarded her with visible surprise. Surely, she did not mean to send her daughter with me— _us_ —something that was surely more valuable to her than anything else. _What price would this exact from me, now?_ I wondered. My pessimistic thoughts grounding me back to reality. Morrigan seemed to put on a faked smile, as she looked from her mother to us.

“Such a shame—what?!” Morrigan exclaimed as her brain finally processed her mother’s order.

“You heard me, girl. Last time I looked, you had ears!” Flemeth said, laughing at her seemingly ever-confident daughter’s visible discomfort with her previous command.

“Thank you, but if Morrigan doesn’t wish to join us…” Jasmine finally spoke up, surely trying to keep Morrigan as far away as possible.

“Her magic will be useful. Even better, she knows the Wilds and how to get past the horde.” Flemeth continued. As I observed her daughter becoming more, and more frustrated at her lack of a part in this life-altering decision.  
  


“Have I no say in this?!” Morrigan exclaimed at her mother.

“You have been itching to get out of the Wilds for years. Here is your chance.” Flemeth said as she gestured to us, as the hound just finishing his stick, came over to stand by Marcus with his wet mouth.

“As for you, Wardens, and you, Vlad, consider this repayment for your lives.” Flemeth finished

“Very well, we’ll take her with us.” I said, accepting Flemeth’s odd offer.

“Not to…look a gift horse in the mouth, but won’t she add to our problems? Out of the Wilds, she’s an apostate.” Alistair realized.

He was right, I believe he knew, by now, I could keep my cover rather well, but her, it would be more of a challenge. And Templars could be…most bothersome.

“If you do not wish help from us, _illegal mages,_ young man, perhaps I should have left you up on that tower?” Flemeth questioned

“Point taken…” Alistair responded tiredly, not wishing to argue any further on the matter.

“Mother…this is not how I wanted this. I am not even ready—” Morrigan began to complain, almost sounding…scared.

“You must be ready. Alone, these four must unite Ferelden against the darkspawn. They need you, Morrigan. Without you, they will surely fail, and all will perish under the Blight. Even I, and even him…” Flemeth explained to her now timid daughter, lastly gesturing to me.

It was true, if we were to fail, and the Blight took Ferelden, and spread beyond. It would only be a matter of time before the threat would become insurmountable, even for me, and would destroy the world…

“I…understand.” Morrigan finally relented to her mother’s wishes, with her head down.

.

“And you, Wardens? Do you understand? I give you that which I value most in this world. I do this, because you **_must_** succeed.” Flemeth questioned, looking at us all, tentatively waiting for our answer.

“I understand.” Marcus said, standing from his log, looking at Flermeth with determined eyes.

“Allow me to get my things, if you please.” Morrigan huffed, with feigned cordiality.

We all sat in silence as we heard Morrigan frustratingly rustling though various belongings in her home. None of us dared enter, for fear of being cursed upon entry. Some time later she came out with her sack and what looked like a handmade wooden staff of some kind. She turned to us all and said.

“I am at your disposal. I suggest a village north of the Wilds as our first destination. ‘Tis not far, and you will find much you need there.” Morrigan informed officially.

“Or, if you prefer, I shall simply be your silent guide. The choice is yours.” Morrigan offered,

“I think we should just get underway…” Marcus said visibly fatigued by this cabin’s presence. Earning a glare from Morrigan.

“No, I prefer you speak your mind.” I spoke sternly, seemingly no one daring to oppose my decision.

“Ha-ha, you _will_ regret saying that, Vlad.” Flemeth said

Now Morrigan seemingly had had enough of her mother’s prodding, and said.

“Dear, sweet mother, you are so kind to cast me out like this. How fondly I shall remember this moment.” Morrigan shot at her mother.

“Well, I always said if you want something done, do it yourself, or hear about it for a decade or two afterwards.” Flemeth replied

“I just…” Alistair started, turning my attention to him. As he gathering the confidence to say what was on his mind.

“—Do you really want to take her along because her mother says so?” Alistair asked, gesturing to the Witch’s daughter in front of us.

I decided to respond cordially, this once.

“We need all the help we can get? Wouldn’t you agree?” I asked Alistair

“I guess you’re right. The Grey Warden’s have always taken allies where they could find them.” Alistair remarked

“I am so pleased to have your approval!” Morrigan exclaimed with obviously feigned joy, earning a small chuckle out of me.

“Alright, let’s move out of here, we have burned too much daylight already, just standing around babbling.” Marcus said.

“Farewell, Mother. Do not forget the stew on the fire. I would hate to return to a burned down hut.” Morrigan remarked.

“ ‘Bah. ‘Tis far more likely you will return to see this entire area, along with my hut, swallowed up by the Blight.” Flemeth darkly informed.

Morrigan then looked visibly saddened at her mother’s remark.

“I…all I meant was…” Morrigan started

“Yes, I know. Do try to have some fun, dear.” Flemeth said, as we all started to make our way out, Morrigan taking one last look at her mother. Who simply smiled and waved at her daughter’s leaving. She quickly hoisted her sack over her shoulder and made her way to the front of the party, and guide our first steps on our adventure, to save Ferelden, and the world…

**End of Act 1 Song: Until We Go Down - Ruelle**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Awesome! That's act one done! The first ten mainline chapters are complete. The next chapters that will be coming from now on will be on week-by-week basis, rather than the day-to-day or every few days basis. 
> 
> I can say that the coming chapters have a lot in store and will continue to develop both the story and characters both familiar and unfamiliar alike.


	13. The Sad Little Village of Lothering

**Act II: Peace In Our Time**

**Location: Denerim, Hall of the Landsmeet.**

**Chosen Song: Human Nobility – Inon Zur**

It had been a long day of delegation and pointless political jabbing, but this needed to be done. Teyrn Loghain thought, as he made his way to the hearing stage of the Hall. He needed to simply feel around…he needed to see what the public opinion of him and his actions were, so that he could devise…corrective measures to ensure that these thoughts do not turn into any more than that, thoughts.]. He had done, and sacrificed, far too much to be stopped by some whiney nobles, who were more akin to angsty toddlers in his eyes.

Moments later, Teyrn Loghain had begun his speech upon the stage that was Ferelden’s revered Landsmeet Hall.

“…And I expect each of you to supply these men. We must rebuild what was lost at Ostagar, and quickly.” He continued to say, carefully scanning the room filled with nobles of all ranks and titles, for any kind of resistance.

“There are those who would take advantage of our weakened state if we let them. We must defeat this darkspawn incursion, but we must do so sensibly and without hesitation.” He said capturing the crowd with his commanding expressiveness, and can-do attitude.

Then, a man stepped forward, and asked for both the attention of Loghain, and subsequently the room as a whole. This man known as Bann Teagen, brother to the Arl Eamon whose state of health was currently a mystery, as he opted out of this meeting, a surprise to even Loghain.

“Your lordship, if I might speak?” Bann Teagen asked, as Loghain silently gestured for his freedom to do so.  
  
Bann Teagan bowed respectfully before he spoke,

“You have declared yourself Queen Anora’s regent, and claim we must unite under your banner for our own good.” Bann Teagan restated to the room of nobles. All this, as Loghain inwardly smiled at the realization at what was going on, and he knew exactly how to shut this train of thought down, before it became a spreading disease amongst these influential room of people, whose power combined could be enough to overthrow his plans.

“But what of the army lost at Ostagar? Your withdraw was most…fortuitous.” Bann Teagan continued on, making a very bold claim as to the true intentions of Loghain and his strategic withdraw. Yes. Loghain thought There is always one. But this needed to be shut down _now_ or risk ruining everything off of one man’s dangerous assumption.

“Everything I have done has been to secure Ferelden’s independence . I have not shirked my duty to the throne, and neither will any of you.” Loghain said, as his accusatory finger of judgement brushed over the entire room.

“The Bannorn will not bow to you simply because you demand it!” Bann Teagan retorted loudly.

Now that Loghain had quarantined the train of thought to just this one man. Now it would be easy manipulate these fickle nobles to completely shun his ideas as nothing more than a sorrowful man having a bout of treasonous thoughts in his guilt.

“Understand this: I will brook not threat to this nation…from you, or anyone else!” Loghain countered skillfully as he chose to end this conversation and made the decision to leave the room hastily.

Looking entirely conflicted and worried at the current events, Queen Anora thought to call out to Bann Teagan in one last cry for help.

“Bann Teagan, please!” Queen Anora called out.

“Your Majesty. Your father risks civil war. If Eamon were here…” Bann Tegan said, interrupting her pleas.

She sobered herself at this response, and replied in stoic words, in an effort to negotiate with Bann Teagan, and to defend her own stance at her father’s side.

“Bann Teagan, my father is doing what is best.”

“Did he also do what was best for your husband, your Majesty?” Bann Teagan questioned, as he decided to end this conversation, seeing it was going nowhere, and leaving Queen Anora hurt, and deep in thought.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

**Chosen Song: Wake Up Call – Maroon 5**

Jasmine POV:

It had been about an hour…or maybe two before we arrived at the Imperial Highway. It had been far too long of a day for me. To start, I had woken up to the realization that we had lost one of the most pivotal battles in history. The shem King was betrayed and killed and would most definitely send the human kingdoms spiraling into chaos, and every time these human kingdoms are in turmoil, my people pay the cost…Lastly, I learned that one of the few men whom I put my trust into was in fact, not a man at all, but was in reality _Lin-Tarlen'an_ the Blood Lord, and all he had ever said to me was but a ruse, a disguise. I felt hurt, but it was only the latest in a series of unfortunate events, and my disquieted mind told me that it would not be the last such event. I picked up my pace as we continued walking the long road, now quickly making pace towards the first of the many ancient ruined arches that were prominent all over the Imperial Highway. I looked around me to observe the varying states of my band. I looked to my right as I was walking saw Morrigan and Sil—Vlad…waking at the same pace, Morrigan looking observant, but not paranoid, she walked a good balance between the two, and still kept her predatory gaze on the world around her, ready for anything. Much like myself, it guessed it was a biproduct of being raised in the wilderness. “Be always aware…” rung in my brain at that moment I observed Morrigan. _She was her mother’s kin after all._ I thought.

I then caught a glimpse of Vlad, he broke pace with Morrigan speeded his gait for but a moment, and then quickly fell back into synchronization. He _looked_ focused, but underneath that stoic shell I could only assume that his mind was swimming with thoughts, most likely brewing up a long-winded explanation about his appearance in our lives, and why he was even _at_ Ostagar in the first place. His original answer was extremely vague and left much to be desired in terms of detail. Needless to say, I was highly anticipating his confessions.

I turned my head a bit more and saw Marcus completely disregarding the uniform speed of movement that we had all assigned ourselves to. He trailed at least four-or-so-feet behind Morrigan and Vlad, his steps were irregular, and he seemed to scuff almost every piece of uneven ground. If I could describe his look in one word it would be…fatigued, a condition I could empathize with. He just looked ready to give up, I assumed he was questioning in his mind why exactly we were even trying at all. Why we were trying to save Ferelden at all, when everyone around him had betrayed him over, and over again. I then turned my attention to Alistair to my left, and he seemed trying to keep his stoicism in check, but there were obvious cracks in the walls. I could see his sadness… and his regret. I knew in my heart and I hoped that everyone else here did as well that: Alistair was not at fault for Duncan’s death, and was most certainty not his killer by any stretch of the imagination. But I could see that no matter what reasoning or logic we gave him, he would always believe himself at best a coward, and at worst, a murderer. Then, a smile came on my face when I saw Marcus’ hound, Gerard, happily prancing alongside Alistair, his stitches for his battle wounds were well-done and would hopefully continue to heal him. I was devastated for Marcus when the ogre battered Gerard, I thought he was dead for sure. But his hound was resilient, and would need to be for the coming days.

The company of strange, mysterious individuals continued though the ancient arches whose wide frames gaped over the long portion of the Imperial Highway. The Highway was the origin of many a traveler’s story. In times past, it was the main roadway used by merchants to go to and for to sell their goods and oddities to every village and town from Honnleath to Denerim. Thus, it was a prime spot for highwaymen and bandits to make off with a poor merchants spoils. Now though, it was used as a trail blazed by dread, fear, and tears. As those who had already faced the savagery of the darkspawn fled their homes and livelihoods to simply escape with their lives. As noon struck, and the sun hung still in the sky above their heads , the company continued their journey along the road, now hoping to make to make it to-and-though the village of Lothering before nightfall.

Soon though, we caught sight of the supposed village and stumbled upon a curious sight on the road. It seemed to be a crashed wagon with baubles and other such objects strewn about. There were quite a few men that surrounded the wagon, a few of them lying on the ground, sleeping, others sitting, and the last of them leaning on one of the many ancient arch pillars. They watched for on-comers not looking not in the least bit worried, and looked as if they were waiting. Once noticing what this actually looked like, I looked to the others to see that we had all taken notice of the suspicious situation and hand, ready for anything. One of the men caught sight of us, walked towards us, smiled, and said in a friendly manner.

“Wake up gentlemen! More travelers to attend to. Led by an elf of all things.” The leader conducted.

All of the other men stood to their feet, and resumed their proper positions at the leader’s side.

The clearly dimwitted, but brutish man to the leader’s left blurt out with worry in his eyes.

“Err…they don’t look much like them others, you know. Uh…maybe we should just let these ones pass.”

The leader had a flash of anger on his face as he heard his comrade’s comment, but quickly resumed his charming demeanor, and said.

“Nonsense! Greetings travelers!” He said turning to us with a sly smile.

Alistair to my left simply leaned towards me and said in a low tone so as to not completely offend these people,

“Highwaymen. Preying on those fleeing the darkspawn, I suppose.”

Morrigan chimed in from my right, in stark contrast to Alistair, completely disregarded the possible offense her comment might inflict upon these strangers.

“They are fools to get in our way. I say teach them a lesson.”

“Agreed.” I heard Vlad add, as I looked over to him as well, catching a glimpse of Marcus who was simply shaking his head, looking at the floor. He was presumably sad at the unfortunate reality that someone would prey on these poor people who were simply trying to escape with their lives.

“Now is that any way to greet someone? Tsk, tsk, tsk. A simple ten silvers and you’re free to move on.” The leader casually replied, feigning offense.

I looked back to the leader after his statement.

“You should listen to your friend. We’re not refugees.” I said confidently.

“What did I tell you? No wagons, and these ones look armed.” The left-hand man pushed once again.

The leader once again looked to his comrade, frustration at his comments now clear on his face.

“The toll applies to everyone Hanric. That’s why it’s called a toll and not, say, a refugee tax.” The leader explained, earning a scoff from Vlad, at presumably their overly obvious extortion attempts.

“Oh, right. Even if you’re no refugee, you still gotta pay.” The man named Hanric stated.

Alistair chucked at this and said,

“So, let me get this straight. You’re toll collectors, then?”

“Indeed, for the upkeep of the Imperial Highway! It’s a bit of a mess, isn’t it?” The leader asked us, hoping to sucker us into a few coins.

I had grown tired of this and simply wanted to get to the village as quickly as possible and maybe find some clean water to drink.

“Forget it, I’m not paying you anything.” I said

“Well, I can’t say I’m pleased to hear that. We have rules you know.” He said looking down at his feet.

“Right. We get to ransack your corpse, then. Those are the rules.” Hanric informed.

“You can certainly try.” Vlad said in a calm, serious, confidence that would make even the mightiest of warriors tremble.

“Well, this is going nowhere. Let’s finish this, gents!” The leader commanded, the men now jumping into action, and drawing their weapons.

I ran to the back to give myself room to fire, which gave me a great view of everyone else. I saw Morrigan sling her staff off of her shoulder, and proceed to use it in tandem with her magical capabilities to devastating efficiency. Alistair and Marcus both drew their blades and jumped to defend myself and Morrigan. Vlad was…nowhere to be seen…At first, I was angry, my mind jumping to the conclusion that he had chosen this time to make his escape and leave us to die here. But then but a moment later, as I loosed another arrow into the thigh of one of the unfortunate bandits, I saw a slight distortion of the light, for just a flash and then it was gone. I still had no idea what it was but in the heat of the moment I chalked it up to my nerves getting the better of me. I refocused myself and continued to fire and give as much support as I could to Alistair and Marcus. Once there were only three men left standing, the first two I could identify as the brute Hanric, the leader, and another one of his bodyguards to his right, I once again saw another shimmer in behind them. And before I could blink, the shimmer moved quickly and Hanric and the other bodyguard received deep slashes to of their throat, nearly enough to completely decapitate them. Much blood spewed from their opened veins and they collapsed to the floor not long after. Now looking extremely confused, and even more fearful, the leader started looking around frantically, tears welling up in his eyes. Just as shocked as he was, we dared not take another step closer. I saw the shimmer appear once more behind the leader as he froze presumably feeling the presence behind him, to whom he dared not look at. I saw Vlad rematerialize from behind him, and noticed that he towered above this meek man, who truly had no idea what was going on, or what he had gotten himself into. He simply leaned down to his shoulder and said,

“Hello…” earning an erratic forceful slash with his sword from the leader that was effortlessly dodged by Vlad. My eyes tracked to Morrigan to see what her reaction was, she looked in awe of what Vlad was able to do, and with such grace. Vlad sadly toyed with the poor soul, and let him continue his uncalculated swings, and thrusts before seemingly becoming bored of it. He grabbed the leader’s forearm completely stopping the force and motion of his last swing and Vlad raised his fist to his face and punched him so hard it completely broke his nose and, in all likelihood, a fewother facial bones. The bandit leader was sent flying back from the force and was shockingly impaled by one of the broken off boards that stuck out of the crashed wagon. Still alive, he started to cough up a clod of blood when Vlad went to knell by him, and spoke.

“How poetic…It’s a pity you know, this loss of life here today…you could have been so much more, but instead you were slain by your own selfish greed you were all so sure would bring you salvation.” To me, he sounded almost…sorrowful with his words. Like a parent who regreatably had to dcispline their child, but could not apologize because there was a lesson that needed to be learned. And there was indeed a lesson that was learned here today.

As the life quickly faded from the man’s eyes, Vlad stood from his knelling position, took a bottle out of his satchel, uncorked it, and then placed the bottle under the very end of the wood spkike upon which the bandit leader was recently impaled. It flowed with fresh blood still and the bottle wuickly began to fill. I averted my gaze for feer of becoming squeamish. I returned my gaze as he recorked the now full glass bottle of blood and rose from his kneel and looked towards our shocked expressions.

“Come, we haven’t all day, and this unfortunate lot have already wasted too much of our time.” He commanded stoically, now turning away from us and continued walking in the direction of the village as all looked at each other and silently made the decision to follow.

It was maybe five minutes more, and we had finally reached Lothering proper.

Looking at it’s more, let’s call it…rustic appearance, Vlad stepped in front, took a good look at the village he knew he would soon be entering and said,

“What a sad little place to live.”

Morrigan had resumed her place at Vlad’s side, seemingly gotten over her brief showing of a mix of awe and fear. Alistair caught up to them, who were both standing in front of myself and Marcus.

“Well there it is, Lothering. Pretty as a painting.” Alistair jested, earning a scoff from Marcus and Vlad.

“Ah…So you have finally decided to rejoin us, have you? Falling on your blade in grief seemed too much trouble, I take it?” Morrigan shot fierily at Alistair with a grin. I looked to Marcus after this and he was not in the least bit happy with how she was prodding Alistair on this _very_ delicate point.

“Is my being upset so hard to understand? Have you ever lost someone important to you? Just what would you do if your mother died, hm?” Alistair asked frustrated at her brazen comment.

“Before or after I stopped laughing?” Morrigan questioned, without skipping a beat, earning a slight, almost hidden snicker from myself and Vlad.

“Right...Very creepy. Forget I asked.” Alistair said, trying his best to shift the conversation somewhere else.

I stepped forward, Marcus following, to try and help him steer the conversation away from Morrigan’s jabs.

“What is it you wanted to talk about, Alistair?” I asked.

“His navel, I suspect. He certainly has been contemplating it for long enough.” Morrigan once again jabbed at Alistair’s emotional state.

“Oh, I get it. This is the part where we’re shocked to discover you’ve never had a friend in your entire life.” Alistair returned, getting tired of the pointless prodding.

“I can be friendly when I desire to. Alas, desiring to be more intelligent does not make it so.” Morrigan fired back, willing to keep doing this for as much time as the day was long.

Completely done with that conversation, Alistair forcefully ended it my simply ignoring Morrigan’s jests, pasted on a smile, and looked to me, and spoke in a friendly tone, as if nothing in the world was bothering him.

“Anyway…I thought we should talk about where we intend to go, first.” Alistair said, now drawing my attention back to our mission. It was a sensible thing to think. We need not spend any more time here, than what was absolutely needed. Marcus apparently saw this as his chance to speak his ideas, and so he did.

“I need to look for Fergus. He might still be alive!” Marcus said, holding on to the last bits of hope he had for what was left of his family.

“He was out scouting the Wilds, wasn’t he? That’s what the king said.” Alistair asked.

“Then attempting to look for him there would be foolish. He is either dead or managed to flee to the north.” Morrigan stated brazenly, completely disregarding trying to let Marcus down easy. At this, Vlad silently disapproved of her words by his putting his head down in shaking it in disappointment. Marcus was just about ready to blow up in her face for her insulting comments.

“Very sensitive…” Alistair reprimanded sarcastically

Morrigan then turned her attention directly to Marcus and said,

“I am simply saying that it is foolish to mount a rescue when you have no notion of where this man is and the Wilds are overrun with darkspawn. You will either find him somewhere outside of the Wilds with other survivors, or…not at all.”

“Maker’s Breath, Morrigan, that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t look for him!” Marcus exclaimed growing more and more frustrated with Morrigan.

“That’s exactly what it means!” She fired back, not allowing Marcus to settle this on his terms.

“You wish to do this brother of yours a service? Avenge him. The time to look for survivors will come later.” Morrigan continued, as Marcus simply stayed quiet on the matter.

“What Morrigan is trying to say is: We simply do not have the time, nor the resources to commit to finding your brother as of now. But look at me Marcus…” Vlad added, trying his best to assumedly make up for his lying to Marcus and us all. “…We _will_ find your brother. I will do anything in my power to attain this thing for you, I can assure you that.” Vlad finished, earning a somber nod from Marcus as he redirected his eyes to his feet. “I know what it is lose…”

“Well…I _think_ what Flemeth suggested is the best idea. These treaties…have you looked at them?” Alistair asked me, shifting the conversation to something a bit more useful.

“There are three main groups that we have treaties for: the Dalish elves, the dwarves of Orzammar, and the Circle of Magi.” Alistair informed me.

“I also still think that Arl Eamon is our best bet for help. We might even want to go to him first.” Alistair continued

“Is there no way to contact the Grey Wardens for help?” Marcus asked, curious.

“Short of leaving Ferelden to seek them out, no. My contacts in Orlais will almost certainly not be coming after hearing of our defeat at Ostagar. And the only other place to send word to would be Wiesshaupt Fortress, and that’s thousands of miles away.” Vlad informed.

After hearing that, my thoughts grew even more dim on the matter of our mission. So, somewhat against my better judgement, I asked Morrigan what she would suggest for us to do.  
  


“What do you think we should do, Morrigan?”

“Go after you enemy directly. Find this man, Loghain, and kill him. The rest of this business with the treaties can then be done in safety.” Morrigan said overconfidently.

“Yes, he certainly wouldn’t see that coming! And it’s not like he has the advantage of an army and experience and—”

“Enough. As much as I would like to agree with you Morrigan, and as much as I would like to see Loghain’s head on a spike and put on display in the streets of Denerim for all to see. As of now, Loghain has too many advantages. He is a brilliant strategist, and most likely has already foreseen resistance. _All_ good things come to those who wait.” Vlad added, much to the chagrin of Morrigan.

“I was asked for my opinion and I gave it. If you two wish to come up with reasons why something cannot be done, we will stand here until the darkspawn are upon us.” Morrigan added, slightly aggressive at the fact her opinion was so openly shouted down.

“Then we need to find the people.” I said, trying to hurry this conversation along so that we did not burn any more time.

“I can give you directions if you like.” Alistair offered.

“I know that my clan has already fled north, we won’t find them.” I informed.

“There must be another Dalish clan in Ferelden. In fact, I’m sure of it” Alistair said confidently.

“If we head eastward towards the Brecilian Forest, we should hear word of one of the clans that wanders that area. Hopefully they will still be there.” He continued.

“Where can we find this _Arl Eamon,_ Alistair?” Vlad asked

“He’ll be at Castle Redcliffe, in the far western part of Ferelden next to the mountain passes. If he isn’t there, someone will be able to tell us where he is.” Alistair continued to inform us.

“Where do we find the dwarves then?” I asked seeking as much information out of Alistair that we could get to assist us in our mission.

“We would need to speak to their king in Orzammar. That means heading west into Frostback Mountians, which won’t be easy.” Alistair explained, continuing to feed us all the information he had about what we would need to do. It seemed like more, and more of an insurmountable task the more he kept telling us.

“What about the Circle of Magi?” Piped up Marcus.

“That would be at their tower on Lake Calenhad to the north. We’ll be looking for the First Enchanter, whoever that is.” He added once again, noticeably less informed on the Circle than any of the other topics.

“And where would Loghain be, exactly?” Vlad asked Alistair, with a slight blaze in his eyes.

“If he isn’t out in the field with his army, he’s probably going to be at the palace in Denerim. We can go to Denerim, but somehow, I suspect they’re not going to let us just walk around. Only a suspicion.” Alistair spat, visibly angry with Loghain.

“Alright then, I don’t think we need any more directions.” I said.

“Then you have a plan?” Alistair asked curiously

“Yes, I think we are ready to begin.” I replied.

“Fair enough, let’s head into the village, then.” Alistair suggested, as we all abided and finally made our way into the sad little village of Lothering.


	14. Trouble in Not-so-Paradise

Marcus POV:

Walking though the village, many sights and smells assaulted the company from all angles. Their trek though the village had begun, and it there was remnants of still moist dew on the grass. The smell of hay, cattle and of farmland in the distance. It had a small wall that had been built to withstand a pack of wolves, rather than a siege. Behind the wall lied the roofs of the tallest of the buildings in the village. It’s chantry, and it’s inn. An inn that was once a place of revelry and happiness. But the Blight had already changed so much, and now it is but a gathering of the desperate, sad, and depressed. In the distance there was a particularly large windmill, used by all of the farmers in the town to grind down their produce, and was to be shipped to the Denerim markets for sale, making the farmer and his family some honest money. But all knew the eventual fate of this village, it was to become mere fodder for the darkspawn soon, and some natives were planning to act on this fact, and soon.

We had eventually made our way a bit more on the village’s main road. Before we were stopped by a curious looking farmer, wanting to know more about why they were here, and what we wanted in his hometown. We spoke to him, hoping that he would give us some more information regarding exactly what was going on here in Lothering. He informed us, that the ruling lord of Lothering had left…with Teyrn Loghain. Soon, we bid him good day and moved on though the village. After passing its small wall made of cobble, we were beckoned over by a templar guardsman confirming their presence here in the village. He spoke to us about nearly the same things the farmer did when we asked, and also informed us to see Ser Bryant if we needed anything important. Before we left, I turned to see Morrigan who looked quite a bit more guarded in the presence of the Templar. Afterwards, we made our way further into the village and our ears were graced by a peculiar ruckus. I turned myself to see what it was. It seemed to be a small group of people, heckling a merchant about something or another. I was curious and so we approached to see what, exactly was wrong.

“Back off! I have the right to charge what I wish!” The flustered merchant said as he shoved off one of the nuisances. It was now that I noticed while the others looked to be simple commoners, and farmers, there was also priest involved, which piqued my interest into what was going on even further.

“You profit from their misfortune! I should have the templars give away everything in your carts!” The priestess exclaimed sadly.

“You wouldn’t dare! Any of you step too close to my goods, and ill—”

As we approached Alistair chimed-into the argument with,

“It’s so nice to see everyone working together in a crisis, warms the heart.” Alistair commented sarcastically.

Detaching himself from his current argument with the priestess at Alistair’s comment, he turned to look at our motley band and said.

“Ho! You there! You look able! Would you like to make a tiny profit helping a beleaguered businessman?” The merchant man offered, gesturing to me, probably since it was in the front.

“Is your profiteering ruffling some feathers?” I asked the man, trying to relate as best I could. As bad as it sounds, I knew nothing of a commoner’s life, and had just begun to get used to a soldiers life. It was simply too much change for one man to go through so rapidly. It was too overwhelming, and so I did the only thing I thought to do, try to mimic until you can make it somewhere important.

“You could say that, yes.”

“The nerve of these people!” Alistair once again piped up.

“He is charging outlandish prices for things people desperately need! Their blood is filling his pockets!” The worried priestess explained sadly.

“ ‘Tis only survival of the fittest. All of these cretins would do the same in his shoes, given the chance.” Morrigan added, unsurprisingly…

“I have limited supplies; the people decide what those supplies are worth to them.” The merchant man tried to defend.

“You bought most of your wares from these very people last week! Now they flee for their lives, and you want to talk business?!” The priestess jabbed.

“Look, stranger, I’ve a hundred silvers if you’ll drive this rabble off, starting with that priestess. I’m an honest merchant, nothing more.” The man once again offered.

“You don’t think your being in the least bit unscrupulous?” Jasmine asked from behind me.

“Look, would the people be better served if they could buy no goods at all?” The man replied.

“They spend their very last coin because they are desperate. And this man preys on them as surely as the bandits outside the city!” The priestess exclaimed, revealing this man’s true actions.

“Bah! I’m not arguing anymore! Drive off this woman and get yer hundred silvers. Otherwise I’m taking my wagon and leaving!” The merchant finally decided, and made one last offer to me.

“Now, here’s what I’m going to do…” Vlad finally spoke and walked to the front with.

“--While you might be right, Morrigan. If we let ourselves be dictated to simply because one is “fitter”. We should have been left on that tower to die, and we should simply lay down our arms and let the darkspawn destroy the world with nary a resistance. For they are fitter, of this there is no doubt. There is time enough for lowering yourself to their level, even if it is simply to force change, but in this era of strife, we _cannot_ simply resign ourselves to the world. We _must_ try to see the world, not for what it is, but for what it can be. This is a lesson I learned long ago—"

“And so, with that I will say this only once, since I have heard entirely too much of this rabble-rousing to care: Lower your prices, give me that staff in your cart for a heavy discount of forty silvers, or, or have your goods incinerated in blazing flame… So unless you have a particular buyer for ash and melted metal…I suggest you comply. Do we have a deal?” Vlad threatened offering a smug hand to the merchant.

He looked unsure for a few moments before he visibly relented and decided to agree.

“Maker’s Breath! Sometimes it’s truly not worth operating this far south! Take what you’ve asked for, but nothing else! Or ill cut your grimy, thieving hands off myself!” The merchant exclaimed, frustrated that his “business venture” had been exposed and shut down.

Vlad moved to the merchants cart and picked up the metal staff, it looked fairly ornate, but not very well taken care of. It had scattered rust spots all around it’s shaft and even spreading to the top. It did look fairly heavy but I was sure that would not be a problem for him. After examining it, he gave the man the forty silvers he promised from his satchel. After the deal was done, he walked back toward us.

“So… we have come to solve every squabble in the village, personally? My, but the darkspawn will be impressed.” Morrigan sarcastically shot at Vlad, with her arms crossed. Presumably perturbed at the fact he shot down her philosophy.

“Thank you for your generous assistance. May the Maker watch over your path.” The priestess said to us thankfully.

“And yours.” Vlad responded, earning an odd look from Morrigan that resembled confusion, shock, and disgust.

Soon, we set our sights on the inn. It only seemed like the next logical place to find any kind of news about what had gone on in our absence from the civilized world. _Hopefully we could find something useful there_. I thought as we started to make our way over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It has occurred to me that it has been over a week since the last posting, and that is why today and tomorrow I will have two chapters posted. I am also super happy to see the hit count steadily rising on surely a very niche idea, very encouraging indeed!


	15. The Belle of the Righteous Path, and The Caged Qunari

Vlad POV:

Upon entering the, shall we say, “credible” establishment known as the Dane’s Refuge Inn. We all stood next to one another in line, and were immediately greeted with a deafening silence from all the patrons in the dining hall. Only for them to resume their roaring and drinking not long after. Marcus even had to dodge a flying beer tankard that promptly smacked against the wall behind him and cluttered on the floor spilling what contents it had in it. With a surprised glare from Marcus, a rowdy man at the back of the room was hysterically laughing at Marcus’ surprise. In some small way, it was pleasant to see humanity’s persevering spirit, still trying to enjoy themselves amidst such chaos and despair.

Soon, I observed two men, armored, sitting in the back corner and saw a glint of recognition in their eyes. It looked peculiar to me; _do they recognize us somehow? Survivors maybe?_ I wondered. They soon got up from their table, and one of the men approached us. He had darker skin, black hair with prominent stubble on his face, almost reminding me of Duncan.

“Well. Look what we have here, men. I think we’ve just been blessed.” The darker skinned man said, with a low, gravely, commanding voice.

“Uh-oh. Loghain’s men. This can’t be good.” Alistair acknowledged.

I was almost offended by the fact that it had taken me _this_ long to recognize the heraldry of Loghain’s army. _I guess I’m losing my touch, it has been too long in the castle._ I thought to myself.

“Didn’t we spend all morning asking about some fellows with this very description? And everyone said they hadn’t seen them?” The other man approached and asked whom I assumed to be his commanding officer.

“It seems we were lied to.” The commanding officer stated.

I saw her approach only out of my periphery before she spoke.

“Gentlemen, surely there is no need for trouble. These are not doubt simply more poor souls seeking refuge.” The mysterious red-haired girl said.

Her accent was…hard to place. It sounded Ferelden mostly, but had a sure Orlesian draw at the end of her words. She was dressed in a very conservative wardrobe that was common for priestesses and sisters of the chantry…which only posed more questions for me. I quickly looked her up and down to assess whether she was a threat or not, and spotted a curious bulge coming from her the right side of her hip… _interesting…_

“They’re more than that. Now stay out of our way, Sister. You protect these traitors; you’ll get the same as them.” The commanding officer said, shutting down her attempt at defense quickly.

I had a feeling of what he was going to say next. But I was going to let him get to the point beforehand, lest I jump to unnecessary conclusions, and spill an unfortunate sod’s blood in bad taste.

“What makes you think _we’re_ the traitors?” Marcus asked, noticeably dumbfounded by their use of the word.

“Teyrn Loghain claims the Grey Wardens betrayed the king, or haven’t you heard?” The red-haired woman tragically informed.

Well. It was true. Teyrn Loghain has stolen the diamond and has framed us for the theft. I had a feeling he might try something like that. A mind as brilliant and cunning as his would not pass up such a golden opportunity to silence dissenters, _and_ weed out possible threats at the same time.

The commanding officer soon grew tired of our idle conversing, and looked to one of his men and commanded sternly.

“Enough talk. Take the Wardens into custody. Kill the sister and anyone else that gets in your way.”

“Right! Let’s make this quick!” The soldier said making his way over to Marcus.

Marcus drew his blade, and pointed it in the direction of the soldier, making his intentions clear. The solider mimicked the gesture, and both men were locked in a standstill as all of us drew, and unsheathed what weapons we had. I turned my head to see that a dagger had appeared in the hand of the Chantry sister…A curious thing for a woman of the Maker to have on her person.

The soldier soon struck out at Marcus who was playing the defensive game, knowing the young soldier’s untrained impatience would get the better of him sooner or later. And at that, the fight had officially begun! It seemed now that I was wrong in my original survey of men. There were four men instead of two, which would _almost_ make this a fair fight. I simply found a drink on a table that had not been turned over, pulled up an old, wooden chair, and sat to relax, knowing my companions would no longer require my help. I did indeed stay highly observant and very guarded throughout the fight in the event one of them crashed onto the table and I needed to quickly bolt them dead… all the while I was sipping on…whatever.

I observed the Chantry sister the most during the fight, seeing as she was the surefire wildcard. I knew nothing of how she fought, only that she was on our side. She fought with an educated grace one would not expect from a supposedly peaceful lifestyle. It was not long before the fight was finished, with all of his lackeys dead on the ground and only himself remaining, the commanding officer look entirely defeated. I quickly shuffled through my satchel of various baubles, looking for one in particular, one I had not used in a very long time.

“All right, you’ve won! We surrender!” The commanding officer exclaimed for his life, dropping his sword to the ground, as a found what the little item I was rustling though my satchel for.

The chantry sister approached Marcus and the rest and said,

“Good, they’ve learned their lesson and we can all stop fighting, now.”

“The Grey Warden’s did not betray the king, Loghain did.” Jasmine defended

“I was there! The teyrn pulled us out of trap!” The commanding officer responded

“The teyrn left the king to die!” Marcus exclaimed back at him.

“The wardens led the king to his own death! The teyrn could do nothing!” The commanding officer shot back, still not afraid to hold his tongue. I had had enough of this pointless chin-wagging, so I intruded on the debate.

“Enough!” I raised my voice as I rarely did, and said, backhanding the officer to the ground.

“Take a message to Loghain.” I commanded sternly, giving the man one chance to live, and only one…

“W-what do you want to tell him?” The officer asked, seeing that there might be a way to save his own life in this situation.

“Tell him: He’ll pay for what he has done. We’re coming for him…” I stated, as I pulled a small object from my pocket, it was a handheld brander. It held the ancient crest that was used by my armies and myself during my days of conquest. If Loghain was as smart as I thought he was, he would find what it meant, sooner or later.

I heated the small brander with flames in the palm of my hand it quickly turned white-hot and was ready to be used. Realizing what was about to happen to him, the traitorous officer squirmed and writhed under the pressure of my arm, to no avail. I placed the hot brand to his neck and let it sit there for about eight seconds’ making sure that the imprint was permanent. I glanced behind me while doing the deed to see Marcus cringing at the sight, and the horrifying screams of the man below me. Jasmine simply turned away. I quickly removed the brander and set it on a nearby table.

I took a tankard of alcohol off the table and splashed it on his neck wound to prevent any infection. I healed what excess I could so it would not kill him, but the mark was to stay forever. I then commanded him to get up and out of my sight, and he promptly did so. I then reorganized my satchel calmly and then once I was satisfied, I strapped it back onto my person and resumed my position in the group. I saw a few sideways glances in my direction as I did so.

The chantry sister continued to speak soon after,

“I apologize for interfering, but I couldn’t just sit by and not help.” She said thoughtfully.

“So, I see.” I said, looking at the fallen bodies of the professional soldiers she had just cut down with nothing but a dagger in her hand, and in chantry robes no less.

“Where does a chantry sister learn to fight like that?” I asked, curious of her answer.

“I wasn’t born in the chantry, you know. Many of us had more…colorful lives before we joined.” She responded.

“And just who are you anyhow?” Marcus asked, somewhat frustrated at the fact that another mysterious woman has yet to tell us her name.

“Ah, yes, let me introduce myself. I am Leliana, one of the lay sisters here in Lothering. Or, I was.” She introduced.

“And what does that mean?” I asked, growing more suspicious of this woman.

“I joined the Chantry to live a life of religious contemplation, but I am no priest, not even an initiate.” She admitted.

It was at this time looked around the room in thought of her words, as I sometimes did. I caught an eyeful of Jasmine silently gushing over this woman with her eyes, never daring not to making a sound.

“So, since you are still interested in us, I assume you want something from us?” Marcus asked.

“Those men said you were Grey Wardens. You will be battling the darkspawn then, yes? That is what Grey Wardens do? I know that after what has happened, you’ll need all the help you can get. That’s why I’m coming along.” Leliana probed

I outwardly chuckled and said, trying to let her down as easily as I could. She had the look of someone who has contemplated this for a long time, and thinks this is the right path.

“I’m sorry, Sister, but you are very mistaken.”

“Ah, I thought you might say that, but here you are, the Maker wants me to join you.” She said, completely serious, and gave us a dead fish stare, completely confident that her statement would be end of our conversation and we would hastily bring her on board to help us save the world. _If any one person in the entire universe wanted you to stay as far away from me as possible, it would be the Maker._ I thought.

“Can you, ahem…elaborate?” Jasmine piped up, to my surprise. It would seem her outlandish remarks of the Maker had broken the apparent spell she was under.

“I-I know that sounds…absolutely insane—but it’s true! I had a dream…a vision!” She exclaimed trying to pull us into her argument.

Alistair, having none of it, and not skipping a beat, simply said.

“More crazy? I thought we were all full up.” He said dryly, earning a quick glance from Morrigan, who was entirely aware to whom that insult was directed.

“Just look around you for but a moment and you will see. Look at the people here. They are lost I their despair, and this darkness, this chaos…will spread. The Maker doesn’t want this.” Leliana, pleaded continuing to try and make her odd case.

_The Maker…ABANDONED m-us, long ago! And he is not coming back, therefore he cannot want, nor finds distaste in anything anymore._ I thought, as she continued to go on.

“What you do, what you are _meant_ to do, is the Maker’s work. Let me help!” She pleaded with us. I looked to Marcus to see if I could extrapolate what he thought of the situation by his look. He seemed like he was open to the idea after her explanation, but was still not completely convinced.

“We need more than prayers, I’m afraid.” Marcus replied.

“I can fight. I can do more than fight. As I said, I was not always a lay sister.” Leliana offered

“I put aside that life when I came here, but now…if it’s the Makers will, I will take it up again. Gladly. Please let me help you.” She pleaded one last time.

“Very well, I’m still not fully convinced of your whole story, but you seem useful, and have a good heart. I also think we aren’t in the position to be refusing help.” Jasmine said, as I just put my head in my hands at the sight of her sheer oblivious naivety, at her welcoming of a complete stranger whom she was clearly eyeing up and down only moments ago. I did not judge her for her tastes, just her common sense.

“Perhaps your skull was cracked worse than mother thought?” Morrigan asked rhetorically

Leliana looked to Jasmine and said with a wide, charming smile on her face,

“Thank you! I appreciate being given this chance. I _will not_ let you down.”

At that not another word was said. Probably out of shock that we just _let_ this random woman in a tavern join us on an adventure that threatened to shake the world. I quickly walked over to get my rusted staff that was leaned up against one of the chairs, slung it over my should our so that it hung diagonally over my torso, and we made our way out of the Dane’s Refuge.

We quickly made our way out of the now vacant establishment that was the Dane’s Refuge Inn. We had made the decision that we had spent more than enough time in this village, and had gotten everything that we required from it. Once we had all made our way to the village outskirts, we had almost passed up a most curious sight. Our only clue to his presence was his calm, meditative words.

“Shok ebasit hissra. Meraad astaarit, meraad itwasit, aban aqun. Maraas shokra. Anaan esaam Qun.”

As his foreign words touched our ears, we all turned to face a sad sight. It looked to be a man who was locked inside of a cage fit for a rabid dog. It was not merely a human man though, this was a powerful creature, of an even more proud race. At the sight of him I could see that he was Qunari. A race whom I highly respected for the most part. I was quite perplexed at his situation however, it was rare to see _any_ Qunari this far south, let alone see one in a cage. I observed him more, he was a fair bit taller than even I, and quite a bit more muscular, I wondered how any human could apprehend him and stuff him in this cage. We all stepped into his view to get a better look at him, he opened his eyes from his prayer, and a prominent scowl was immediately plastered on his face at the sight of us. He had a color of vibrant purple as the color of his eyes, and his hair was pale white, but he did not show extreme age, so I assumed that was the color he was born with.he

“You aren’t one of my captors.” The large man said, from behind the iron bars.

“I will not amuse you any more than I have the other humans. Leave me in peace.” The man finished dismissively.

I stepped closer to the cage bars, hoping to address this proud creature myself, his people had earned enough of my respect for that, at least.

“You are a prisoner? Who put you here?” I asked, wanting to know how it was a human was able to best this man, regardless of what he did.

“I’m in a cage, am I not? I’ve been placed here by the Chantry.” The man responded to my questioning with contempt.

It was at this point I heard our newest addition speak up from the back.

“The revered mother said he slaughtered an entire family. Even the children.” Leliana informed.

Now this was a development indeed. But I was not about to hold baseless accusation against this man, before I heard it from him. I learned that lesson already. But it seemed my wish was about to be fulfilled, the man lifted his arm and pointed at the back of our group, seemingly pointing towards Leliana.

“It is as she says.” The Qunari said.

So, it was true then, he truly did murder an innocent family of men, women and children. One of the heinous deeds one could commit, but I was curious. What led to him doing such a thing, He did not seem a predator who stalked this family to their home, and proceeded to slaughter them in the wee hours of the morning. I decided to question further.

“I am Sten of the Baresaad—the vanguard—of the qunari people.” The man introduced.

I was familiar with the term Baresaad, a noble order of knights whom were used as ambassadors, to other nations and guardsman to their own people, and were a pivotal part of Qunari society. Making this case of cold-blooded murder even more perplexing.

“And just what are you doing in there?” Marcus asked the man named Sten.

“I’ve been convicted of murder. Have the villagers not spoken of this?” Sten questioned, seeming surprised by my lack of knowledge on his case.

“Who did you murder?” Jasmine asked, meekly.

“The people of a farmhold. Eight humans, in addition to the children.” Sten said blankly.

“Are you guilty?” Marcus continued to question.

“Are you asking if I feel guilt, or if I am responsible for the deed? However, I feel, whatever I’ve done, my life is forfeit now.” Sten replied to his inquiry.

“If you feel guilt for the murder, why did you do it in the first place?” Jasmine asked.

“Either you have an enviable memory, or a pitiable life to know nothing of regret.” Sten replied darkly.

“How long has it been since the beginning of your imprisonment?” I asked him, changing the subject of conversation.

“Twenty days, now. I shouldn’t last much longer. Another week at most.” Sten said depressingly, not looking entirely bothered by the idea of his life ending inside of an iron cage.

Marcus looked surprised at the fact that this man had survived as long as he did and said.

“That’s a lot of time without food or water.”

“Compared to your kind maybe.” Sten replied.

“Are you not interesting in seeking some kind of atonement?” Jasmine asked him.

“Death will be my atonement.” Sten replied without hesitation.

I grew frustrated with this man’s lack of _fire._ He seemed to have completely given up. I was even sure that if he really wanted to, he could simply rip the rusted door right off its hinges if he wanted to and walk away. But he had lost a man’s fire, he was ready to rest, it was quite pathetic really…

“So, you would prefer to die then?” I asked, perturbed at his weak attitude.

“I would prefer to die in battle, but my choices have been made.” Sten defended.

“If that is what you seek, then I may have an offer for you.” I said, about to make a quite outlandish offer.

“You _could_ help me, and my friends here, defend this land from the Blight. Unless your heart is truly set on having your skin torn from your body by hungry darkspawn.” I offered grimly.

His eyes seemed to perk up at the mention of the Blight, as if it meant something to him.

“The Blight? Are you a Grey Warden then?” Sten asked, more curious than I had seen him in the entirety of this conversation.

“ _I_ am not. But my friends here—” I said, as I gestured to Jasmine, Marcus, and Alistair who were standing behind me.

“— _they_ are.” I finished, looked back to Sten.

“My people have heard legends of the Grey Warden’s strength and skill…though I suppose not every legend is true.” Sten insulted.

“Well, I think we should be leaving now…” I said, scanning my partner’s faces, and seeing that they wanted to hurry along.

“To be left here to starve, or be taken by the darkspawn…no one deserves that, not even a murderer.” Leliana said sadly.

We walked away from the Caged Qunari and made our way to where the chantry of Lothering stood. We discussed what we would negotiate with the revered mother. Everyone started heading into the Chantry, Jasmine trailing last, she looked back at me standing still, and regarded me with a confused look.

“Are you not going to come along? It was your idea after all.” Jasmine asked me standing just outside the doors.

“I…think it would just be best if it steered away from consecrated grounds…I’m sure you could imagine the numerous possible reasons why.” I answered.

At my hinting she seemed to remember. She opened the large doors, and looked back at me with an apologetic look on her face, silently mouthing, an “I’m sorry” as the large door shut behind her.

I stood outside the door, for what seemed like at least ten minutes before I became bored, and reached into my satchel to see if I could find anything of value that acted towards my entertainment. I shuffled around and pulled out an old, ornately carved ivory pipe. I remembered it was one I had been given as a gift from Diaval. He had given it to me because he felt awful that he had ruined a few of my hundreds of books in my library. It was a pointless gift really, I really did not care for those books, but I accepted if only to relieve him of his guilt. It would seem this small trinket would be the only thing that might save me from the oppressive boredom I was feeling. I walked around a bit to see if I could find some burnable herbs, ones that would not sting me too bad. I found a healthy looking Elfroot, ripped of a leaf and dried it out in my heated hands. I stuffed the crumpled herb in my pipe and snapped my fingers, resulting in a flash of fire, just small enough so that the onlookers would not notice. I made a few puffs to see if the blasted pipe still worked. It did, but it could be cleaned. Just one more thing I would need to add to the list of things that either needed to improved, cleaned, or fixed. I came here to end the Blight quickly, but after Duncan. I _needed_ to do right by him. I failed the first time; I could not afford to fail again.  
  
I resumed my position outside the door, thinking on my life, and my choices, I continued to smoke the pipe. After about another half-hour. Alistair, Leliana, Morrigan, Marcus, Jasmine, and of course, the Hound, Gerard all exited the village Chantry. Alistair grinned at me, still smoking on my pipe, and held up a key. I quickly grasped what he was trying to tell me, and we started to make our way off the Chantry grounds. I stopped by the fencing to gently tap the ivory pipe against it to empty the ashes, and we made our way back to the Caged Qunari.

Soon we crossed the small bridge that allowed us to cross over the small creek that ran straight though the village, splitting it in two. As we crossed, Leliana decided to strike up idle conversation, not really knowing whom she was dealing with. And so, she did, as we continued to make our way to the cage.

“They say your mother is Flemeth, a witch of the Korcari Wilds.” Leliana commented.

“They also say washing your feet in winter makes you catch cold in the head, but we all know that is not true.” Morrigan said

“But sometimes they are right and they’re right in this.” Morrigan continued.

“You know the stories about—” Leliana attempted to say, as she was interrupted.

“Of course. You think my mother would let me go without telling me all the stories of her youth?” Morrigan interrupted and rhetorically questioned Leliana.

“My mother told me stories too. She was the one kindled my love of the old tales of legends.” Leliana said looking off into the distance, slightly intoxicated by nostalgia.

“Hmph. My mother’s stories curdled my blood and haunted my dreams.” Morrigan replied grimly.

“No little girl wants to hear the stories of the Wilder men her mother took to her bed, using them till they were spent, the killing them--” Morrigan continued, delving deeper into her dark memories.

“—No little girl wants to be told that this is also expected of her, once she comes of age.” Morrigan finished.

I turned to see Leliana now blatantly sobered up by her newfound friend’s confession.  
  


“I…uh…I see.” Leliana mustered up awkwardly.

“No, you don’t. You really don’t.” Morrigan responded, dismissing Leliana completely.

After that awkward little exchange, we had almost made our way to the cage where the poor man was being held. Marcus stepped forward, to the cage door. He silently beckoned Alistair with his hand to give him the key, so as to not disturb the man’s meditation. Marcus took the key and rattled the iron bars with it. Immediately catching his attention. Marcus held up the key to show that he had been given the literal key to his freedom.

“I have the key to your cage.” Marcus said, somewhat smug.

“I confess, I did not think the priestess would part with it.” Sten responded respectfully.

“As a Grey Warden of Ferelden. She has agreed to release you in my custody.” Marcus said, sparing no time flaunting his newfound title.

“So be it. Set me free and I will follow you against the Blight.” Sten offered.

“And what if we can’t lead you to your atonement?” Jasmine asked

“Then I will find it myself.” Sten said with stone-hard certainty.

“Can we proceed? I am eager to be elsewhere.” Sten said. A sentiment I could find sympathy in, this man seeks to atone. If I was not willing to give him this chance, then I could. Not say I was in the least bit deserving of a chance of my own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those who are not familiar with the old tales of European vampires, they are not permitted to step on consecrated ground. i.e. any holy place such as churches, mosques, or temples. 
> 
> Note: I thought I had posted this chapter a week ago but it just been sitting, suspended, in the draft section...oops.


	16. Playing Hero

**Song Choice: Devils Got You Beat – Blues Saraceno**

After making a small detour to the little marketplace in the middle of town to buy necessities that they had almost forgotten about, mostly food, but also soaps that they could scrounge up. The group, now including a dishonorable vanguard, whose people were far, far away from where he stood now, and a Chantry sister who was not all she seemed. In the perspective of things, it did not seem inappropriate to have these people join such a band of misfits. Marcus was moving at a steadier pace out of the village than when he entered. Being able to negotiate with the revered mother, and do some good for the recently caged Qunari man seemed to raise his spirits a bit. Jasmine was quite somber, feeling sorry for the people who could not afford to leave, she hoped they would be able to survive by some slim chance. But deep down she knew that once the darkspawn, just finally ripped through this place, it would be gone…forever. Vlad was thinking…contemplating, and planning as always, his mind turned to the future days, weeks, possible months, what would happen to them? How could the group even be managed to work together? What did fate have in store for us all? These were all questions that raced back and forth in his mind, wanting nothing more than to be answered in haste so that they could dissipate forever more.

We had finally made our way out of the village, and the sun had started to hang low in the sky, and the red tint that blanketed the cloud cover was worrying. Once night fell…there was no telling how fast the horde would move…but we did not want to take any chances. We continued thought the farm fields.

We found our way, and just as we were about to remerge onto the Imperial Highway. I felt something dreadful, darkspawn. They were close too. I immediately looked to Alistair, and the concerning look that was pasted onto his face told me everything I needed to know. I then looked to Marcus who was drawing his blade, and letting everyone else know that there was trouble up ahead even if we could hear no commotion yet. As we got closer, we could hear a man yelling.

“Away with you, foul creatures! Leave us alone!” The man exclaimed at the pack of darkspawn, blocking the road. I knew I had to be quick this man needed our help, and if I stood here any longer, they would run him though quicker than a knife through butter.

I charged in against Alistair’s wishes and one of the darkspawn caught sight of me. It roared it’s foul cry at me as I continued my B-line for the man and what seemed like his partner, son maybe? I jumped into the road to try and stop the darkspawn before they could attack and quickly started releasing arrows. A kneecap here, an eye socket there, it’s what needed to be done. But I started to realize the error of my ways when a darkspawn whom had already received three arrows’ into its chest ran at me in untamed rage. Just as it was about to strike the killing blow, it head skewered with anther such arrow…from the side. I looked to see Leliana smiling at me. As I continued to received backup in the form of Marcus and Sten. Sten, with no worry…or maybe care…in his heart charged the remaining darkspawn and slew them with such force that when he was finished with them there were miscellaneous body parts strewn about the roads. A few fireballs from Morrigan did well enough to eliminate any stragglers that Sten was originally frustrated he let go.

I turned back to see a nice-looking dwarf man smiling at me, and he spoke.

“Mighty timely arrival there, my friend. I’m much obliged.” The dwarf man thanked honestly.

I retuned his smile and replied respectfully.

“The name’s Bodahn Feddic, merchant and entrepreneur. This here is my son Sandal. Say hello, my boy.” The man said, introducing himself and his son, who looked quite peculiar in my opinion.

“Hello.” The younger dwarf boy said, completely flat and without emotion.

“The road’s been mighty dangerous these days. Mind if I ask what brings you out here? Perhaps we’re going the same way?” The dwarf merchant Bodahn asked me.

“It’s a bit…complicated but you’re welcome to come along.” I said inwardly cringing at the fact that I would have to present these two as yet _another_ addition to our rapidly growing, merry little band if they accepted. I just couldn’t bear to leave them here, all alone. We were already leaving an entire village to fend for themselves. I would hate to abandon these two, whom we could really help if we wanted to.

“Complicated? Somehow, I imagine that only says half of it!” The merchant, Bodahn exclaimed and laughed, looking at the oddness that was our company.

“—Anyway, thank you for the offer, but there may be more excitement on your path than is good for my boy and me. Allow me to bid you farewell and good fortune.” The merchant man said, as he started to move to his cart and put the things that the darkspawn had tried to ransack back into proper order.

“Goodbye.” Sandal bid us flatly.

“Now then, let’s get this mess cleaned up, eh Sandal?” Bodahn asked, beckoning his son over to help him.

“Now, you mind telling me what the hell that little stunt was?” Vlad said in a hushed and stern tone from behind me.

Knowing exactly what he was referring to, I defended.

“Somebody needed to jump into action, and quickly, or else these two dwarves might have lost their lives.”

“I understand that, but _you_ must understand that I made a promise to Duncan before he died: That I was to watch over you, and keep you alive. And while I’m in no place to be your moral compass, I _must_ keep you alive, and I cannot hope to do that the right way if you senselessly charge into situations you are entirely unprepared for.” Vlad lectured.

“What do you mean “the right way”?” I asked, latching on to that particular point.

“I have…means of influencing someone’s mind against their will if need be, but I do not wish to do that…to any of you. But if you continue down this path of blatant self-destruction…then I will have no choice.” He replied, his response worrying me greatly.

He sounded like the Keeper when I had gotten into the village sweets. He had no right to talk down to me that way. I knew what I was doing, I had been training with a bow since I was old enough to walk. But I was not about to pick a fight with him, remembering who _exactly_ he was.

“Look, I understand you want to help, and because of that I can see that you have a good heart, certainty better than my own. But if you start helping everyone in sight, you will spread yourself too thin, and will surely rip yourself apart. Help others, yes, but do not play hero when it could get you very dead.” Vlad said as he speeded his pace to reach the front of the group and led us forward into the Bannorn.


	17. Party Camp: Part 1

**Song Choice: The Party Camp – Inon Zur**

Marcus POV:

_One has felt the darkest, deadest, depths of the world. One has seen the army he commands, it’s vastness overshadows even the great blue oceans, it’s blackness threatening to swallow the world. He is to them what a beacon is to a moth. He is their light, gazing from above, leading them to their ultimate purpose, their inevitable goal. His draconic form beating his wings and gaping his toothy maw, to roar to them, to command them, and they are to do nothing but listen…always bound. But deep inside, lies hatred, hatred of himself, and hatred one other, a hatred one has felt in his fleeting presence. At last, he calls out to one, a call of rage untamed, a harbinger of the end times, but also a call of despair and anguish. But this one thinks, no, **knows** it has seen this before, it recognizes this call, a call to one who has the power to change it…to change him…or release him from this torment. Then, it all vanished, and this one was left return to its reality of sorrow._

I thrashed around, side to side, for a few moments and quickly sat up, covered in sweat. I knew that had happened; it had been happening since I was a young lad. I had been here before, so I did what I always did, simply sat still and breathed, I was no longer a part of that nightmare anymore. I just needed to breathe, and tell myself that I was in my room surr…surrounded by the people I love…No, that was all gone now. I had no mother to cry to, I had no father to prop me up for the next fight after I fall, and no brother to confide in, about how I stole the last sweets from the kitchens when the servants weren’t looking. I have no Nan nag me when I get out of line, or when the dog raids the larder in search of giant rats. I would need to be my own man, as my father used to say, it was time I learned how to pick _myself_ up and lick my own wounds. _But could I even do it? Was I strong enough?_ I quickly banished those doubtful thoughts, I _needed_ to be strong, if I faltered now, I would never make my mark on the world, and would never be able to get my revenge on that traitor Loghain, and that bastard Howe.

My deep thoughts were interrupted by the questioning of someone I actually _knew._

“Bad dreams, huh?” Alistair asked with a soft, sympathetic, look in his eyes.

“Not something I particularly worry about. Been having them since I was a small child. In fact, so much so my parents sought magical help to see if they could alleviate my night terrors, but to no avail. But something about this dream stuck me as peculiar: It was not like the ones I had growing up; they were always the same, but this one…It was like the one I had when I went through the Joining. They just always seem so real…” I explained to Alistair.

“Well it is real…sort of. At least these recent dreams you’ve been having, can’t say about the others.” Alistair informed me, to my confused expression. I assume he took notice of that, and decided to explain more.

“You see, part of being a Grey Warden is being able to hear the darkspawn. That’s what your dream was. Hearing them. The archdemon, it…”talks” to the horde, and we feel it just as they do. That’s why we know this is really a Blight.” Alistair continued to explain. Curing my original confusing but at the cost of creating just as many questions.

“Then why didn’t Duncan just tell everyone that then?” I asked yearning for more answers.

“He did. He said he felt the archdemon’s presence, and this was months before either of you arrived. But everyone just assumed he was guessing.” Alistair admitted.

“It takes a bit of getting used to the feeling but eventually you can block the dreams out. Some of the older Grey Wardens say they can understand the archdemon a bit, but I sure cant. Although, I don’t think I really qualified to give you any expertise on your _other_ dreams.” Alistair informed, giving me some hope that I could actually _control_ these dreams, but that still left me with all the others.

“Anyhow, when I heard you thrashing around, I thought I should tell you. It was scary at first for me, too.” He finished.

I looked back at him with genuine happiness that there was still someone I felt like I could relate to and confide in. Someone to guide me to the point to where I could lick my own wounds.

“Thank you, Alistair. I really appreciate it.” I said with a smile.

“That’s what I’m here for. To deliver unpleasant news and witty one-liners. Anyhow, you’re up, now right? Let’s start pulling up camp so we can get a move on.” Alistair jested, and then commanded.

“Well…I was thinking we could talk more. I hate to say it but I trust you, but I don’t very well know much about you.” I admitted shamefully.

“Alright then, what is it you wanted to know?” Alistair responded to my request.

“I heard you were previously a templar, back at Ostagar. I always had fascination with templars, it was why I decided to join the Ferelden tourney, they inspired me. I just wanted to know what it was like being a templar?” I asked, hoping to satiate my childlike wonder.

“Essentially, they’re trained to fight. The chantry would tell you that the templars exist simply to defend, but don’t let them fool you. They’re an army. The other main purpose for a templar is, of course, to hunt mages. To that end, we train in talents that drain magical energy and disrupt spells.” Alistair started to explain.

“So, in theory couldn’t others learn those talents?” I asked, curiously.

“Perhaps, but there isn’t really much of an opportunity. The Chantry keeps a close reign on its templars. We are given lyrium to help develop our magical talents, you see…which means you become addicted. And since the Chantry controls the lyrium trade with the dwarves…well, well I’m sure you can fill in the blanks.” Alistair continued to explain, filling in all the real details that instantly made the templars much less glamorous, and thereby less appealing. But what I wanted to know more, was if Alistair was at one point a lyrium addict.

“So, you _were_ addicted to lyrium?” I asked, hoping not to get a fiery response because of delving into something so personal, and that would surely end our interesting conversation.

“Thankfully, no. You only start receiving lyrium once you’ve taken your vows. You don’t even _need_ lyrium to learn the templar talents. Lyrium just makes templars more _effective._ Or so I was told, maybe it doesn’t even do that.” Alistair said with nearly tangible doubt in his voice.

I decided to change the subject before it got too awkward and personal. I did not want to offend him in any way, and hoped I hadn’t already and he was just good at hiding it. Although Alistair countered with a personal topic of his own.

“So, how did you come to end up in the service of Duncan?”

I thought long and hard about this question. Was I to tell him that I was too weak to save my parents, allowing them to die at the hands of a traitor? Or was I going to tell him that Duncan made the only offer he could to save my life, and left my parents to die, even it was their choice. To go down with the proverbial “ship:”.

“Well, it is a long story, so the short version is that I was the youngest son of Teyrn Bryce Cousland, Marcus Cousland. I lived a pampered life before this, completing in tourneys, attending salons, and all the other things someone might imagine a nobleman’s son to do. But all that was brutally taken away from me when Arl Rendon Howe ambushed the castle in the wee hours of the morning…he killed everyone…I was the only survivor.” I explained truthfully.

“Arl Rendon Howe?! Did you inform anyone?” Alistair asked surprised

“I did, the king. He promised me that he would turn his armies north to bring Howe to justice…that never happened, and now Howe still runs free. My father’s sprit probably becoming more, and more restless by the minute.” I replied somberly.

“Well then…Allow me to make a promise of my own, I _will_ do whatever I can to help you…and I can’t speak for everyone else here, but I’m sure most would be happy to help you. If you told them, that is.” Alistair comforted.

I smiled sadly at him and nodded my head, I once again wanted to shift the conversation though. I was done talking about all of that.

“Alistair, you mentioned this Arl Eamon raised you? Is that true?” I asked, wanted to know more about Alistair’s own childhood.

“Did I say that? I meant that dogs raised me. Giant, slobbering dogs from the Anderfels. A whole pack of them, in fact.” Alistair said growing cagey and disguising it with humor.

“I think that is farther from the truth, and closer to what Morrigan thinks your childhood was like.” I joked back, trying to take the tension out of the conversation.

“But in truth, that’s not what I remember you telling Flemeth.” I continued, trying to get as much as I could from him, before he locked me out. After all, if we were shading childhood secrets he might as well be fair.

“Well, if you’re going to go and pay attention to the facts, then fine, fine.” Alistair relented.

He stood there in thought for a moment and spoke.

“Let’s see. How do I explain this? I’m a bastard. And before you make any smart comments. I mean the fatherless kind.” He explained as best he could.

“You know? That really still does not help you in any way…” I returned, jokingly

“Yes well. My mother was a serving girl in Redcliffe Castle who died when I was very young. Arl Eamon wasn’t my father, but he took me in anyhow and put a roof over my head. He was good to me, and he didn’t have to be. I respect the man and I don’t blame him anymore for sending me off to the Chantry once I was old enough.” Alistair began to explain his past.

“You don’t blame him _anymore_?” I asked, what I was really interested in was the _anymore_ part of that sentence.

“You see, Arl Eamon eventually married a young woman from Orlais, which caused all sorts of problems between him and the king because it was so soon after the war. But he loved her.” Alistair informed. I still did not quite get his path of explanation as to my questioning, but I decided to let him speak more before I interrupted.

“Anyhow, the new arlessa resented the rumors which pegged _me_ as his bastard. They weren’t true, but of course they existed. The arl didn’t care, but she did. So off I was packed to nearest monetary at age ten. Just as well. The arlessa made sure the castle wasn’t a home to me by that point. She despised me.” Alistair lastly said.

“What an awful thing to do to a child.” I said, and I meant it too. Compared to me, I was living on top of the world. Sure, he lived with the arl but his heartless wife made it less of a home to him and more of prison.

“Maybe. She felt threatened by my presence. I can see that now. I can’t say I blame her. She wondered if the rumors were true herself, I bet.” Alistair said, giving me more insight into his personality, he seemed to be quite understanding, considering what he went thought.

“I remember I had an amulet with Andraste’s holy symbol on it. The only thing I had of my mother’s. I was so furious at being sent away I tore it off and threw it at the wall and it shattered. Stupid, stupid thing to do. The arl came by the monastery a few times to see how I was, but I was stubborn. I hated it there and blamed him for everything…and eventually he just stopped coming.” Alistair said, looking down at his boots, clearly ashamed of his childish actions.

“Are you absolutely sure that Arl Eamon isn’t your father?” I asked finally.

“Yes. I’m quite sure. At any rate, I don’t look anything like him…you’ll see for yourself. Not that it stopped the rumors any.” He said, answering my questions quite adequately.

“All I know is that the arl is a good man and well-loved by the people. He also was King Cailan uncle, so he has a personal motivation to see Loghain pay for what he did. Anyway…that’s really all there is to the story.” He finished, as he saw that I was satisfied and we began to start packing things up for the journey ahead.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

**Earlier that night…**

**Chosen Song: Spikeroog – Mikolai Stroinski**

Jasmine POV:

It had been a few hours since we had set up our first camp. It was not really a problem for me, sleeping outside in a tent and all. It is what I had been doing my entire life. It actually brought back some nostalgic comfort. Just as I was about to head over to my camp after going out on a quick water run, I returned to find some large wooden cart, pulled by a white ox, and some familiar faces standing in front, gesturing me over. It seemed to be the dwarven merchants from earlier. They looked as if they had changed their mind, last minute. Happy at seeing they had escaped and were doing quite okay, I walked over with a smile and the man I remembered as, Bodahn spoke.

“Ah! It’s good to see you, my timely rescuer! Bodahn Feddic at your service once again!” The dwarven man said cheerily.

“I saw your camp and remembered the kind offer you made the last time we met, is there any safer place for a poor merchant and his son to sleep? I think not.” Bodahn continued to explain to me.

“I am also perfectly willing to offer you, and your compatriots, a fine discount for the inconvenience of our presence. How does that sound? Good? Yes?” Bohdan asked, seeming like he was trying to _sell_ me on a deal.

I thought about their offer for a moment. I realized they could be quite useful and I would not want them running around without protection with…everything going on right now.

“Alright, your free to stay. Just mind yourselves.” I said, bringing back some memories of when I was a young girl. When I got bored it would prance into the Keeper’s tent and ask to watch her do her work. She would always think for a few moments, but afterwards, she would always tell me the exact same thing: “Alright, your free to stay then. Just mind yourself and stay silent.” It was a memory of happier days…

“Wonderful! Thank the kind lady won’t you, boy?” Bodahn said with relief in his eyes, and turning his attention to son.

“Thank you, kind lady.” The boy said flatly.

“We won’t be a bother to you or your companions, I assure you. If you should need enchantments, simply talk to my boy. Otherwise, come speak with me.” Bodahn offered kindly.

I smiled at him and took my leave. I was somewhat frustrated though, after our encounter, I had completely lost the urge to sleep. I was not entirely awake. I then caught sight of someone in my periphery. It was Leliana…

And now I was nervous…

I now had no excuse not to talk to her. I kept putting excuse after excuse in my head as to all the reasons I could not be bothered to speak to her. Although the most popular one was that: I simply did not have the time to waste chin waggling. But now, since we had some time to relax, I had no more excuses, and the last thing I wanted to do was come off rude.

I was nearly frantic even. I had no idea how to start a conversation with her. Every time I would come up with something clever it would just pop right out of my mind. I had never had this problem before. When I was in still in the clan, I was regarded with having a clear mind, and one that was determined to complete her goals no matter what. But now I just could not make it happen, and I knew that when I finally made my approach, I would just lose it again. Then I would just come off as painfully awkward, standing there, blank as a board. Then I would just be looked down upon by yet another shem, too stupid to even come up with words.

But I had to do this. So, I made my decision and approached. She was attempting to fix one of the fastenings on her tent, and was completely preoccupied with that to even notice me walking over. Before I had stood in front of her and she seemed to have it fixed. When she turned to me, I just completely lost it…again… So, my worst fear had come true, I just stood there, completely silent, and not able to even find a place to _start_ recollecting my thoughts.

“Is there something I can help with?” Leliana, said observing her silence.

At that, it seemed my question repaired itself. She voice had jogged my memory, and in a sink or swim moment I had repaired the scattered shards of my thoughts. So that I might be able to actually speak with this beautiful woman.

“I-I don’t believe I introduced myself with the others. I’m Jasmine, Jasmine Mahariel.” I stuttered out, quite proud of myself that I had even gotten this far.

“Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you Jasmine, my name is Leliana.” She responded kindly, really helping to get me though the awkward introduction phase.

I looked over to the fastening she had recently stopped fiddling with and saw that it was done completely wrong. In an impulse I blurted out.

“You did that wrong.” I said, immediately wanted to shove my face in the mud until I stopped breathing.

She just smiled up at me, with a slight bit of confusion in her eyes.

“Did what wrong?”

I figured I had to at least _tell_ her what she did wrong or risk coming off like a _complete_ ass.

“The fastening. On the stake, its done wrong.” I said.

“How so?” She asked curious.

“Well…You know what? Allow me.” I said getting down on my knees in a crawling position to make my way over to the fastening to quickly fix it myself.

After it was done, I said.  
  
“It is supposed to wrap around the stake and then back _though_ the buckle, otherwise it would threaten to fall if the hound blew on it too hard.”

“Well, thank you. I appreciate it Jasmine.” She said with a smile.

“I’ve been meaning to ask you: What would someone like you be doing in the Lothering Chantry of all places?” I asked, genuinely wanting to know more about this woman.

“What is meant by “someone like me?” She asked in her silky-smooth accent. One I had never heard before in my life. I had heard many Ferelden shems and far less Orlesian shems. But she seemed to be a perfect melding of the two.

“They don’t teach you to fight like you do in the cloister, do they?” I asked, I was ashamed to admit I knew very little of Andrastian faith and it’s many practices. I was Dalish, not even a city elf.

She softly laughed at my ignorance and asked.

“Did you think I was always a cloistered sister?”

“The Chantry provides succor and safe harbor to all those who seek it. I chose to stay and become affirmed.” Leliana explained.

“And what did you do before that?” I asked, wanting to know more about her life _before_ the chantry, maybe there was something there I could relate to.

“I was a traveling minstrel, in Orlais. Tales and songs were my life. I preformed, and they rewarded me applause and coin.” She admitted.

“And to my skill in battle…well, you pick up different skills when you travel, yes? Yes, of course.” She said, somewhat nervously, but I decided to let it go for now. I wanted to change the topic, I just had so many questions, and I wanted to have answers to all of them. She was just instantly captivating to me for reasons I did not have yet.

“Well, I wanted to ask…this vision of yours…”

“I knew this would come up sooner or later.” She said sighing.

“I don’t know how to explain, but I had a dream…” Leliana continued on, finding some difficulty.

“In it there was impenetrable darkness…It was so dense, so real. And there was a noise, a terrible, ungodly noise…”

“I stood on a peak and watched as the darkness consumed everything…and when the storm swallowed the last of the sun’s light, I…”

“…I fell, and the darkness drew me in…” She finished, and looked as if she was waiting for my inevitable response.

But something struck me about her explanation. It had been just a dream; it was not a vision as she said originally. I choose to ask why that was.

“It was just a dream, why say it was a vision?” I asked trying to solve the puzzle of her conflicting wording.

“I’ve had dreams. This was…different, somehow.” She informed.

“You see, when I woke, I went to the chantry’s gardens, as I always do. But that day, the rosebush in the corner had flowered… Everyone _knew_ that bush was dead. It was grey and twisted and gnarled—the ugliest thing you ever saw, but there it was—a single, beautiful rose. It was as if the Maker stretched out his hand to say: “Even in the midst of this darkness, there is hope and beauty. Have faith.” She said, a blank look coming to her eyes, as she stared off into a place for past me.

At the risk of possibly offending her, I just had to say it. It just seemed a little too…convenient. It seemed like she was taking unrelated actions and compiling them together to fit a wishful idea.

“I think that’s just wishful thinking on your part, Leliana.”  
  


She just sighed and said.

“I suppose you will never understand. No one does. It’s all right.” She said, finding that this was not something that you could simply convince someone of.

“I know what I know, and no one will ever make that untrue.” She declared, standing firm in her beliefs, a trait I admired.

But I could not shake the itch of something…something that was not quite right. I knew it was against my better judgement to continue to dig into this subject. But I needed to know. Besides, I’m sure she would just laugh off my ignorance again, and tell me why I would be wrong.

“You know—I mean it’s nothing really, but a long time ago, I heard that Orlesian minstrels were often spies.” I questioned, hoping for a her to laugh me off and dismiss my thoughts as nothing more than superstition.

She looked up surprised with a frantic look in her eye for a split-second, and as soon as it appeared, it faded away.

“Where did you hear this?” She inquired, concerned.

“I don’t remember, truthfully.” Responded I.

She looked somber, almost shameful. “Not all minstrels are spies, most of them are just singers and storytellers. But some of them are…are what we call bards.”

I contemplated for a moment, and made my response.

“And what’s the difference?”

“Many use the two words “minstrel” and “bard” interchangeably, but to do so in Orlais would cause misunderstanding.”

She continued on. “Bards are minstrels, and more. Spies, as you say. Some say there is a bard order, but it don’t think this is true. Many bards work alone, or in small groups, doing the bidding of a patron who pays for their services. If there is an organization behind it all, no one knows who they are.”

“Patron? What sort of patron.” I inquired

“In Orlais there is much rivalry amongst the high-born. They fight over land, influence, and the favor of the empress. But they cannot do this openly, because it would be impolite, and in public they wear smiling faces and pretend to be civil. In secret they plot to destroy each other. It is a game completely meaningless to anyone but it’s players.” She finished.

That itch in the back of my mind was indeed being scratched, but I was sure that I was not going to like the final result. It just seemed like she knew…too much about all of this spy business for her to not be one. But I decided to ask one more question. One, that if answered, would tell me everything I needed to know.

“Were you sent here to spy on me?”

“Spy on you? What would _you_ have that a spoiled and bored Orlesian nobleman could want?” She rhetorically questioned, with a small chuckle.

At seeing my hardened face however, she realized what she had done, and averted her gaze to the floor.

“I have revealed too much it seems. But it doesn’t matter what I used to be. It is the past.” She lamented, shamefully.

I glared angerly at the fact I had been misled...yet again. “Yes, but that still doesn’t explain why you were living as a cloistered sister in rural Ferelden.”

“I…found myself in Ferelden and sheltered from bad weather in the Chantry, and when the storm passed, I just…I did not want to leave.” She said with pain in her face.

“I like to say the Maker brought me here.” She explained further.

_It’s a weak excuse, but likely all I’m going to get._ I thought. As I got up from her tent and made up some excuse to do something else. She tried to convince me to stay but I needed to be alone…I needed to think. It seemed she was not as beautiful of a person as she had led myself and the other to believe. But what could I expect from someone whose profession is to charm, and then kill their prey? Did _everyone_ here have secrets? Was the Keeper, right? Were shemlen always liars and backstabbers? Is this the lesson my ancestors so painfully learned? I had many questions, all of which I wanted answered, and few answers I possessed indeed.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

**Three hours after arrival…**

Vlad POV:

**Chosen Song: Kear Morhen – Marcin Przybyłowicz**

I’d finished my smaller tent with what small materials we were able to buy from the merchants in Lothering. It was surely not as well organized or luxurious as the one I was given at Ostagar…but it would need to do. I looked around the floor of the tent as I sat down. It looked barren, it needed _something_ to make it feel...less dead. A certainly off thing for a vampire to think, but it was true. I preferred a somewhat cluttered space. I felt it completely changed the entire atmosphere if it were to be cluttered, in an organized way of course. Obviously, I could not decorate as I would prefer, since this camp would need to be packed up within a day or two, and having miscellaneous baubles and souvenirs scattered about would just make the entire process more tedious than it already was.

Embarrassingly, I was one of the last to have their tent set up. Morrigan and Jasmine managed to do quite well and were finished before everyone else. Even more surprising, Leliana was also quick at setting up, again, not something one would expect from a chantry sister. Marcus required some help from Alistair to set up the tent, and Sten simply stayed quiet and did as he was told. Only speaking when spoken to, and keeping a silent watch on the surrounding wilderness. The behavior of a hardened veteran, to be sure. I on the other hand, was the last to ascertain how to set it up. I even had to request help from Jasmine, seeing as she was done with her setup long before I was. She seemed reluctant to approach me, but obliged anyway, and quickly helped so as to not be in my presence for longer than she needed to be. I could understand, I did not blame her for her fear. It was only natural, I assumed…to be afraid. I just wish…I could have done better by them. It’s not as if I _needed_ them to be amicable. No, I just needed to keep them alive. Friendship was just a luxury.

Tearing myself away from my own head, I looked in my satchel for anything that might be useful to keep in my tent. I did not _need_ to sleep, so if I set anything out for the night, it would be to entertain me when I eventually returned. If I ever needed to sleep, I would need to be very weak or extremely exhausted. But the night was still very young. The sun’s light had almost fully disappeared over the horizon. And I had many things that needed to be done, and finally with some time to relax, I had a chance do them. I saw the rusted metal staff just outside my tent, leaning up against one of the wooden supports, and went to see if I could try and clean it, maybe even improve it. But I knew very little of staves and the like of magical equipment of its nature. I never had the need of it, my raw magical talent has always been enough, but to keep cover in the inner cities and towns, it was a necessity.

My first intention was to see if it even worked. I would need to try and _actually_ cast with it in hand. If it didn’t, then I had an entirely different issue. I poured my magical energy into it, and it let off a few sparks of life at its tip, but that sign of life quickly sputtered out. I cursed under my breath and sat back down, disappointed. I knew I needed this piece of magical rubbish to work, but I also knew that it would need to be tuned into compliance. Even in all my years it was a baffling oversight to have not known nearly anything about staves. I needed someone who _might_ know a bit more about it, even if it was just until we could find someone who knew more.

I looked over to my right to where Morrigan had set up her tent. It was fair number of paces from the main camp circle where we had all assigned ourselves a spot to. It was not as if we did not have any more room, there was plenty for her if she so chose it, but I suspected that’s not why she was over there. She even had her own fire that she had built, her tent was constructed out of whatever materials she could scrounge up. I wondered if most of those materials came from her bag that she packed before leaving home, or if it was just some things she acquired. It had thick animal skins to keep her warm and was a far sight more comfortable-looking than my tent that was the standard triangular shape with nothing but thin grey cloth separating me from the elements. For me, cold was not an issue, but it would be quite annoying if I were to find that my covering had ripped in the night and I was being showered on whilst trying to entertain myself with a good book. Which reminded me I would need to visit a proper shop to procure one of those soon.

I decided that Morrigan was my best option, and although she could be prickly at times, she had one of the most unique personalities I had ever come into contact with. I decided she was my best option and approached rusted, broken, staff in hand, hoping that she might be able to reattune it. Before I was even able to let my first words fly, she seemed to sense my approach and turned to me with a slightly annoyed look.

“What do you wish of me?”

“Pardon?” I asked, surprised she could sense my actions before there was even a word out. She is the first one I had talked to since we had set up. And did not seem to be at all intimidated by the knowledge of who I _really_ was.

“ ‘Tis discernable that you want something of me; so, speak it or begone.”

I put on the best smile I could, since she seemed to be in one of her more fractious moods.

“Well, you see. My staff is quite broken…and since I know nearly nothing about staves, I thought I might petition you for your assistance in this matter.”

She looked at me confused for a moment and responded.

“How is it someone who has lived for as long as you have still been ignorant of such things? Never mind give it here.” She said, hoping to get this over with quickly.

She did her good work, as I turned away for the minutes that she required. I observed the rising moon in the sky and the dark silhouettes of the tall forest trees of the Bannorn in the distance.

She cleared her throat a few moments later as a way to call me back from my thoughts and over to retrieve my staff.

“It required some tuning, most likely because of its lack of use up till now.”

I reached down to grab the metallic staff from her lap. As I laid my grip upon it. She fiercely grabbed hold of the staff to keep me from leaving with it.

“I’m not finished with you yet. I require payment, and you owe me such compensation.” She said suggestively

“And in what way would you have me compensate you?” I returned, feeling myself being drawn deeper into her web.

“Simply a conversation, I desire knowledge…about you.” She said, returning to a completely unsuggestive state as quickly as she started.

“—And until you give me the answers I seek; you can consider your staff added to _my_ collection.” She continued on.

Returning from her web, back into reality. I soon realized that she had tested me. But I was not yet sure if I passed or utterly failed.

“Fine then, a conversation is what you want, and it is what you shall have.” I obliged, sitting down across the fire from her.

“—Ask away.” I finished, bidding her freedom to ask what she wished.

“Who are you…really?” She asked firstly.

“Vlad Dracula.” I responded truthfully.

“That cannot be, as Dracula was slain by the Belmonts long ago, no?”

“ _Defeated,_ not slain. It took many years, but I was able to regenerate from my wounds.” I explained, with a complete truthfulness to my words.

“And how can I trust anything that you say?”  
  


“You can’t. You will just need to have faith in my word, but I get the feeling that you’re not the type for that.”

She averted her eyes quickly the ground beside her. Soon, she looked as if she had another question ready to be asked.

“I _have faith_ in no one, and nothing. It would surely make one a fool to do so.” She replied.

“—and that reminds me, are you one of the faithful?”

“As in what, exactly?” I replied, not having enough context to properly answer her question.

“As in…are you Andrastian? Your response to that priestess certainly would peg you as such. Or is it just a way of being civil?” She said, getting to the meat of her questioning.

“I…yes and no. But I will tell you this, I _know_ there is a Maker, and that is all I care to say on the topic for now.”

She seemed puzzled by my response but seemed to accept it for now, given my sternness to end the topic. I decided now would be the time to ask questions of my own.  
  


“Now, I have some questions of my own, if you don’t mind.”

“I very much _do_ mind. We had a deal: I fix your blasted staff and—”.

“—And I owe you a _conversation._ But you see, you have been the only one here asking questions. I have simply done my best to answer them. That is not how a _proper_ conversation works. And I intend to do my very best to repay you in kind for your selfless act of support in an effort to relieve the woes of the staff variety.” I argued, smirking a complete shit-eating grin, knowing that I had broken though her prickly exterior, by the looks of it. She had even gained the faintest hint of a smirk creeping onto her face and she agreed.

I did not know quite why I found myself joyful at the fact I had dug my way through to a more personable Morrigan. It was not a feeling I was particularly used to. And not even one that I knew if I even liked.

“Alright, firstly then. Did you really grow up in the Korcari Wilds?” I asked, curiously. I simply found it insane that someone of such beauty could be in the middle of such a horrible place.

Her face seemed to sour a bit at my questioning—not a good start.

“Why do you ask me such questions? I do not probe you for pointless information, do I?” She asked rhetorically.

I thought that before I instinctively switch to another topic, that I might pursue this one. Even if it was against my better judgement. I truly wanted to know about her past. All I had up to this point was small descriptions and brief allusions, I wanted more.

“It’s just my favorite way to annoy you.” I delivered with a cheeky grin

“Would it not be easier then to simply poke at me with a stick?” she asked, flustered.

I grabbed a stick that I saw sticking out of the firepit, the tip of which was red hot and was releasing a plume of smoke.

“I could give it a try.” I said returning my gaze to her.

She looked at the stick, and then back at my faked-serious expression.

“Hmm. That’s not what I meant, but I think I will elect to answer the question, for now, if you don’t mind.” She said snickering a bit at my ignorance of her inuendo as I frustratedly shoved the heated stick back into the fire.

She quickly recovered from her soft laughter and proceeded to speak.

“What is it you asked? If I “grew up” in the Wilds? A curious question. Where else would you picture me?” She asked me.

Her questioning did ring true on some level. I did not know really where else I would picture her; I just knew that it wasn’t _there_.

“For many years it was simply Flemeth and I. The Wilds and its creatures were more real to me than Flemeth’s tales of the world of man. In time, I grew curious. I left the Wilds to explore what lay beyond. Never for long. Brief forays into a civilized wilderness.” She explained

“And you kept going back to the Wilds?” I asked, growing even more surprised that not only was she raised there. But she obviously preferred it to civilization.

She looked directly to me and asked.

“Would you not do the same? The world of man is an unforgiving and cold place, as you should well know. As I could imagine, the world of vampires...even more so, but I assume you wouldn’t see it that way. The Wilds I hail from is home to me, and I a natural denizen, just as you are to your kingdom.”

I regarded her with silent surprise. She seemed to be more worldly than I had given her credit for. She possessed knowledge of even my kingdom. Probably from tales told to her by her mother.

“For all that I had been taught, however, the truth of the civilized lands proved to be…overwhelming.” She continued.

It was surely a statement that rung true in my mind as well. I knew how it felt to be overwhelmed by human civilization. Staying locked away in a castle for a few years only to find that when you finally exit, it has been two centuries.

“I was unfamiliar with so much. So confident and bold was I, yet there was much that Flemeth could never have prepared me for.”

“Very daring to do. That sounds like something you would try.” I flattered.

She giggled quite softly at that

“Equal parts daring and foolhardy, perhaps.”

  
She quickly resumed her previous demeanor, embarrassed at her girlish outburst.

“There was only once that I was accused of being a Witch of The Wilds, and that by a Chasind who happened to be travelling with a merchant caravan. He pointed and gasped and began shouting in his strange language, and most assumed he was casting some curse upon me. I acted the terrified girl, and naturally he was arrested.”

I laughed a bit at her story.

“Now that was quick thinking. No need to kill the man, when you could simply—have him arrested!”  
  


“Men are always willing to believe one of two things about a woman: one, that she is weak, and two, that she finds him attractive. I played the weakling and batted my eyelashes at the Captain of the guard. Childs play.” She said, continuing to tell her story.

“The point being that I was able to move though human lands fairly easily. Whatever humans think a Witch of The Wild looks like, ‘tis not I. Not that I did not have trouble. There are things about human society which have always puzzled me. Such as the touching—why all the touching for a simple greeting?” She wondered.

I snickered a bit, it just seemed like it was such frivolous complaint to come from someone like her.

“Touching? Like a handshake? I’m sorry I don’t mean to discredit your complaints.” I said, getting a bit of a glare from her at my reaction.

“To begin with, yes. What is the point of touching my hand? I find it an offensive intrusion.”   
  
“Well, from what I’ve read, handshakes became commonplace as a way to solidify trust—here, give me your hand.”

“Did I not _just_ tell you that this was something I considered offensive?” She looked at me with a look of feigned surprise, as if she was shocked that I was so stupid that I had forgotten what she said only moments ago.

“I simply want to show you something. Humor me.” I said, and I was being truthful, I wanted her to see that humans, and all their ways, were not _all_ bad. That line of thinking was a dangerous one indeed…

I held my hand out, and she reluctantly put her hand in mine, if only to amuse me. I then took the next step and gently clasped my thump over the gap in-between her own thumb and index. I needed to be careful and treat this entire interaction as if I was dealing with a wild animal, that could lash out at any point.

“Now. You have full access to my hand and even somewhat to my wrist. This was meant to tell other humans that I did not have a dagger up my sleeve and later became a sign that one would be able to conduct good business with the other.”

Although more informed, she still seemed to greatly dislike it.

“Can I have my hand back now?” She inquired.

“Absolutely.” I replied, gently letting go of her soft palm.

“Now, to continue with my previous thoughts: There were many other things that Flemeth could never tell me of. When to look into another’s eyes, how to eat at a table, how to bargain without offending…none of these things I knew. Even now still do not understand it all, truth be told. But, then, I gave up any hope of doing so. When I returned to the Wilds last, I swore to Flemeth that I had no intention of leaving again.” She started, finishing her story.

I looked at her into her golden eyes, with a calm look,

“Well, I’m glad it worked out this way, at least.”

“Yes? Well then let’s ignore the entire darkspawn threat and that simpleton who is probably your greatest ally in the Grey Wardens.” She fired back, rudely.

Her eyes softened in remorse a bit after she realized how she responded.

“Not…that I lack appreciation for the intent of your comment. Thank you.” She stuttered out awkwardly.

At that I got up from my sitting position across the fire and walked over to her. By the looks of it, she seemed to be expecting an entirely different course of action from me as I leaned over and grabbed my now-fixed staff. I started to walk away, but I turned around to see the briefest glimpse of disappointment before she caught sight of me.

“It was a pleasure Morrigan, you are quite unique. I look forward to knowing you better in the days to come.”

After this, I knew I that I was just leading myself into a trap. This feeling…it was not meant for someone like me. It was meant for those who lived a life of wellness, a good life, not for a creature such as myself. I then started walking back to my tent to try pass the rest of the night away, maybe toying with my newly working staff a bit more. In reality, I knew I would be thinking of our conversation, every detail. reminiscing on something pleasant for a change. But as I was walking my ears caught something that would serve as my true sentence to forever play into this game of cat and mouse.

Assuming I was entirely out of earshot, Morrigan remarked under her breath

“And I find you unrelentingly interesting. What a fool of me.”

I then smirked as my back was still turned to her, not stopping so as to not tip her off to my eavesdropping. I continued to direct myself to my small tent now perfectly content to wait-out the cold night…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big chapter here today! So that concludes the Lothering arc and opens up to the next, that being the Redcliffe arc. I sincerely hope that it has been an enjoyable ride so far and will continue to be going forward.
> 
> And speaking of going forward...There is a very special project that I am cooking up, completely separate from this, mind you, that I think might interest a few people here. I will be putting out a concept chapter here pretty soon just to see any kind of feedback and generally just let ideas stew for a bit before moving forward with the project more.


	18. Redcliffe's Woes

“Can we talk for a moment?” Alistair asked, stopping us just before we crossed the town line. Seeming more nervous than I had seen him…ever.

“I need to tell you something, ah, should probably have told you earlier.” He continued, I could already tell where this was going, and I did not like the sound at all. It sounded very much akin to Vlad a week ago.

“This is bound to be entertaining.” Vlad himself said, barging into the conversation.

“—He was fiddling with just about every single visible buckle on his armor the entire trek here.” Vlad continued to prod in a jesting manner.

I decided to be amicable at least for now, because I did not yet know what he was going to say, it could be harmless for all I knew. So, ignoring Vlad and his prodding I questioned,

“What’s on your mind?” I asked, trying to be as friendly as I could. For all Alistair had done for me in the past few days, he deserved at least some trust.

“I told you before how Arl Eamon raised me, right? That my mother was a serving girl at the castle and took me in?” Alistair inquired, inadvertently catching everyone other than myself, up to speed on the current state of events.

“—The reason he did that was because…well, because my father was King Maric. Which made Calian my…half-brother, I suppose.” Alistair admitted, visibly cringing, waiting for the slew of comments to come flying his way.

And they did, the second Vlad processed the implications of what Alistair had just revealed, his face darkened frighteningly.

“YOU IDIOT!!!” Vlad yelled at Alistair.

“—Did you not think even for _one_ moment that that very pertinent information might have been important for all of us here to know?!” Vlad continued, frustration growing on his face.

“Okay! I’m sorry, alright? It’s just that it’s honestly brought nothing but trouble for me in the past. And you’re right…I should have told you sooner…” Alistair replied meekly. It reminded me of when Nan would scold me when I would get into the sweets before dinner. Oh, she would be furious…but me and Fergus thought ourselves sneaky thieves, to be caught by no-one. We were dreadfully wrong almost every time, and were always reported my father, who would proceed to give us both a lecture. It’s strange…in the moment as a child I hated being lectured by my father more than anything in the world, but now…I would trade _anything_ to go back to those days.

Vlad seemed to notice Alistair’s genuine pleas for forgiveness, Vlad looked shameful for a moment, presumably because he had lost his temper a minute earlier.

  
“Look, I’m not going to apologize for my outburst, it was _absolutely_ something we should have known about prior to this moment. But I realize that I am in no position to judge you either.”

“I just need to know one thing…does Loghain know about your problematic heritage?” Vlad finished, posing a very good question.

“No! At least…I don’t think he does.” Alistair responded frantic, and then seeming to shift to uncertainty.

“Well, if that you say is true, and this Loghain is the man you say he is. Then it would only be logical to assume he seeks the throne.” Morrigan chimed in.

“—Meaning that you, Alistair, have become a prime target of assassination if he knows of your true origins. And we know that _nothing_ is below Loghain in an effort to secure power. A ruthless, but undeniably effective outlook.” Vlad remarked, completing the thought process.

**[Add transition so that the comedy is not so jarring]**

“So, you’re not just a bastard but a _royal_ bastard?” I jested at him, trying to alleviate the creeping tension.

“Ha! Yes, I guess it does at that. I should use that line more often.” Alistair chuckled and replied.

His tone soon returned to one of shame thought, the joking seemed to only delay that response, to my disappointment.

“I would have told you, all of you—” Alistair said looking at us all.

“But…it never really meant anything to me. I was inconvenient, a possible threat to Calian’s rule and so they kept me secret. I’ve never talked about it to anyone.” He continued to explain to us.

“Everyone who actually knew either resented me for it or the coddled me…even Duncan kept me out of the fighting because of it. I didn’t want you to know, as long as possible. Again, I’m sorry.”

“That is something I can attest to. If you remember, Duncan pulled me aside to help him create the mixture for the Joining. All he talked about when we were walking was Alistair and how _special_ he was and why he was being kept out of the real fighting for that reason. He never explicitly told me _why_ he was special just that he was, in some way or another. Honestly, I assumed he meant _special in the head_ at the time, but not fucking…this.” Vlad explained, gesturing frustratedly at Alistair, and then turning away from him and rubbing his forehead.

It all started to come together now. It was not a case of favorites at all. Duncan assigned us three wardens to take care of Alistair, should Cailan fall. Not because he favored Vlad over us and chose to have him on the battlefield, but because Duncan knew of Alistair’s real parentage and its importance.

“Yeah…” Alistair said awkwardly, starching the back of his head.

“At any rate, that’s it. That’s what I had to tell you. I thought you all should know about it.” He finished.

“Are you sure? You’re not hiding anything else that might be important?” Jasmine asked.

Alistair looked my right where she was standing.

“Besides my unholy love of fine cheeses and a minor obsession with my hair, no. That’s it. Just the prince thing.” He responded jovially

“So, we should be calling you _Prince Alistair?_ ” Leliana inquired, giggling a bit at her playful prodding question.

“No! Maker’s breath, just hearing that gives me a heart attack! It’s not true, anyhow…I’m the son of a commoner. It was made very clear to me that the throne was not in my future.”

“—And that’s fine by me. No, if there’s an heir to be found, it’s Arl Eamon himself. He’s not of royal blood, be he is Calian’s uncle…and more importantly, very popular with the people. Though…if he’s really as sick as we’ve heard…no, I don’t want to think about that. I really don’t.” Alistair explained ending in a concerned tone.

“So, there you have it. Now can we all just move on please. And I’ll just pretend you all still think I’m some…nobody who was too lucky to die with the rest of the Grey Wardens.”

“Ahh…Perfectly fine with me!” Morrigan exclaimed in a whimsical manner.

Leliana made a theatrical bow in response, that looked quite convincing, she seemed to have much practice perfecter the art of the bow.

“As you command…my prince.” She teased with a smile on her all the way.

“Oh, lovely. I’m going to regret this. Somehow I just know it.” Alistair said, one as he turned away from our teasing and led the way into the village.

Following Alistair’s lead, we made our way down the rural paths to reach the village proper. As we did so, we happened upon a man, standing in the middle of the road with a frantic expression written on his face. He obviously looked in need of help, I felt for the man, there were no shortage of people in need of assistance, good people, who did nothing to deserve this plight. I positioned myself in front of Alistair and decided to approach him.

“I…I thought I saw travelers coming down the road, though I scarcely believed it. Have you come to help us?” The man asked. I observed him over a bit and he struck me as a bit odd. Not because of his physical look or anything like that, but because of what he was carrying. On his back, were a full quiver of arrows and a longbow, but he did not strike me as a hunter, and had the traditional clothes of a farmer.

“What do you mean? Is there a problem?” Jasmine asked from behind me, trying to get a grasp on to the reason behind this man’s presence.

“So, you…don’t know? Has nobody out there heard?” The man asked surprised at our apparent ignorance of his predicament.

“We’ve heard Arl Eamon is sick. If that’s what you mean.” Alistair replied to his questioning.

“He could be dead, for all we know. Nobody has heard from the castle in days! We’re under attack. Monsters come out of the castle every night and attack us until dawn. Everyone’s been fighting…and dying.” The man explained in a tone of remorse.

Well that told us exactly why a farmer was armed to the teeth. They apparently were under attack and a militia needed to be assembled. It was not a concept that was completely foreign to me however. My father told stories of the rebellion against Orlais, and how entire villages would look upon his men’s prowess and valor and would pledge themselves to the cause. So inspired were they, that they procured any, and all weapons they could find to assist them in battle in whatever whey they could.

“Apparently everyone seems to agree that a Blight is the perfect time to start killing each other. Marvelous really.” Morrigan chimed in from the back.

“Please, you must understand. We’ve no army to defend us, no arl and no king to send us help. So many are dead, and those left are terrified they’re next.” The man pleaded.

“What is this evil that is attacking your people?” Sten said, in his usual monotone voice.

“I…I don’t rightly know; I’m sorry. Nobody does.” The farmer said, looking down at his feet, almost shameful that he could not provide more information to us.

Soon, he looked back up, with new life in his eyes, as if an idea had made its way into his mind.

“I should take you to Bann Teagan. He’s all that’s holding us together. He’ll want to see you.” The farmer proclaimed.

“Bann Teagan? Arl Eamon’s brother? He’s here?” Alistair nearly jumped out of surprise at this revelation.

“Yes. It’s not far, if you’ll come with me.” The famer asked of us respectfully, as we all looked at one another and made the silent agreement to follow suit.

  
We all entered the chantry save for the exception that was Vlad. When the farmer asked why he did not enter he simply said he would be waiting at the Inn for our information, and that he had completely faith in a group of seven to complete such a simple task. We approached a man that was currently occupied with another man who seemed to be dispensing information. I assumed the man was Bann Teagan, the way he carried himself alone was enough to distinguish him from the others. But he also wore a set of finely polished steel armor, fit for a nobleman to be sure. He had medium length brown hair that was well kept, and in s swept back style, similar to Vlad’s. He also adorned his hair with traditional northern-Ferelden braids and had bronze rings to keep them in place, even during combat.

The farmer led us to the back of the chantry where the man stood in wait to address the leading man.

“It’s…Tomas, yes? And who are these people with you? They’re obviously not simple travelers.”

“No, my lord. They just arrived, and I thought would want to see them.” Tomas replied respectfully.

He laid his hand firmly on the Tomas’ shoulder and smiled at him in a friendly manner, in a silent congratulatory gesture.

“Well done, Tomas.”

He looked to us soon after.

“Greetings, friends. My name is Teagan, Bann of Rainesfere, brother to the arl.” The nobleman now confirmed to be Teagan explained.

“I remember you, Bann Teagan, though the last time we met I was a lot younger and…covered in mud.” Alistair broke in from behind me, sounding almost somber at his reminiscence.

“Covered in mud...? Alistair? It is you, isn’t it? You’re alive! This is wonderful news!” Bann Teagan happily exclaimed after examining Alistair for a moment.

“Still alive, yes. Though not for long if Teyrn Loghain has anything to say about it.” Alistair responded seriously.

Bann Teagan sobered quickly, recognizing Alistair’s tonal shift.

“Indeed. Loghain would have us believe all Grey Wardens died along with my nephew, amongst other things.” Bann Teagan replied gravely.

“You don’t believe Loghain’s lies?” I asked.

“What, that he pulled his men in order to save them? That Cailan risked everything in the name of glory alone? Hardly. Loghain calls the Grey Warden’s traitors, murderers of the king. I don’t believe it. It is the act of a desperate man” The Bann replied, making his opinions clear.

After taking a short, frustrated huff at after his rant, the Bann seemed to examine me for a moment, looking puzzled,

“So…you are a Grey Warden as well? Is it possible we’ve met? You seem very familiar.” The Bann addressed me.

“You may have seen me at the Ferelden Grand Tourney a while back, or more likely you may have known my father, Teyrn Cousland.” I replied, as a sharp, emotional pain shot through my body.

“Ah, yes, that’s it exactly, I did in fact know your father. A pleasure to meet you indeed, though I wish it were under better circumstances.” He replied somberly.

“And…you are also a Grey Warden, yes? A pleasure to meet you as well.” Bann Teagan said addressing Jasmine this time, who did not really know how to interact well with humans yet, let alone humans of noble status, so she just kind of froze up for a few, long, awkward moments before he just instinctively held her hand out as the only greeting, she had been taught up to this point.

Bann Teagan took it in stride and just snickered at her apparent lack of fine manners, and took her hand, lifted it up to his lips and kissed her ring finger, as was only customary. Leaving her with a terribly confused and red face afterwards, that took just about every ounce of willpower for Leliana to not burst out laughing at. Bann Teagan continued to laugh for a few moments longer at her reaction, but quickly returned to his prior state of seriousness.

“You all are here to see my brother? Unfortunately, that might be a problem. Eamon is gravely ill. No one has heard from the castle in days. No guards patrol the walls, and no one has responded to my shouts.” Bann Teagan explained, his head now pointing at the floor below him.

“The attacks started a few nights ago. Evil…things…surged out of the castle. We drove them back, but many perished during the assault.” Teagan continued, his head still pointed towards his feet, seeming to recollect on the events.

“What evil things are you talking about?” I asked, obviously curious.

These days there was no shortage of “evil things”. All of which needed to be vanquished, but so much time in a day and so little manpower it was just…hard. These where ghouls, goblins, darkspawn, the whole lot of them needed to be wiped out, but I was curious to see what Teagan was going to tell us.

“Some call them the walking dead, decomposing corpses returning to life with a hunger for human flesh…They’ll hit again the next night. Each night they come, with greater numbers.” Bann Tegan said, lifting his head from the floor to address me proper.

_Amazing…just utterly fan-fucking-tastic. First darkspawn, then…Vlad, and now this?! I’m thinking I might just go drown in shallow water._ I thought, frustrated.

“With Cailan dead, and Loghain looking to start a war over the throne, no one responds to my urgent calls for help. I have a feeling tonight’s assault will be the worst yet, Alistair. I hate to ask, but I desperately need the help of you and your friends.” Bann Teagan lastly explained, then turning his attention back to Alistair.

Alistair sighed in response, and looked at me and Jasmine.

“It isn’t just up to me. Though the Grey Wardens don’t stand much chance against Loghain without Arl Eamon.” Alistair said, turning his attention back to Bann Teagan as he spoke.

I really did not want to get involved in anything that involved with anything that involved _the walking dead_ but wasn’t about to leave these people to die, and to be fair, Alistair was right. Arl Eamon’s help could be extremely useful against Loghain, and Maker only knows how much I want both he and Howe to pay for what they’ve done.

“Of course we’ll help.” I answered with a joyful tone.

“How pointless, to help these villagers fight an impossible battle. One would think we had enough to contend with elsewhere.” Morrigan remarked from the back. It was a tempting thought to just leave these people, but I know myself well enough to say that my conscience would never allow it.

Bann Teagan’s face lit up with joy at me agreement.

“Thank you! Thank you, this…means more to me than you can guess!”

“Tomas, please tell Murdock what’s transpired. Then return to your post.” Bann Teagan ordered quickly stepping into action.

“Now then. It’s morning, but there is much to done before night falls. I’ve got two men in charge of the defense outside. Murdock, the village mayor, is outside the chantry. Ser Perth, one of Eamon’s knights, is just up the cliff at the windmill, watching the castle. You may discuss with them the preparations for the coming battle.”

“What exactly are these _things_ that attack the village?” Sten piped up from the back.

“I do not know. They seem to be walking corpses, men with rotting flesh that continue to attack even with the gravest injuries.” The Bann replied to Sten looking concerned.

“Undead. Spirits possessing the dead. There could be several causes behind such a thing, none of them pleasant.” Morrigan explained, offering her expertise on the matter. Because of course she would know that. Although, all jokes aside, I was anxious to inform Vlad and take his opinion on the matter, he was sure to know _something._

All of that information was quite daunting, but all of those things would need to be carried before nightfall if we were to save these people.

“Then we best be off, no need to stand her and burn more daylight than necessary.” I said, taking my leave.

“Very well. Luck be with you, my friend.” Bann Teagan said bidding us goodbye.


	19. The Princess of Humble Beginnings

“…Undead surging from the castle and assaulting the townspeople.”

Well, that was certainty not what I expected, and even further from what I wanted to hear…but I had to admit, I was more interested than I was perturbed. But I had to tether my thoughts for now, lest they get away from me before I have the proper information. I had been bombarded with so many questions in the past few minutes alone that I barely had time to register one before the next came flying at me.

“Did the Bann know that _kind_ of undead is invading them? A name…? Maybe even a description?”

“He called them the “the walking dead” and that they were decomposing corpses specifically, that craved human flesh.” Jasmine informed, giving me vital details to piece together this important puzzle.

“That does give me some clues…but not anything substantial, the best I can offer for now is this: if these are truly “walking corpses” that seemed to be decayed, and have a ravenous hunger for human flesh, then they are likely some baser form of necrophage, likely a zombie, rather than say, a draug or mummy as those don’t exist in this region to my knowledge.”

At my information Marcus, Jasmine and Leliana seemed to have a reaction that resembled slight anxiety.

“Anything else?” I asked, trying to be civil, even though I was quite done with this conversation, it had been far too taxing for my liking.

“He said we would need to speak to a couple of men by the name of Murdock and Ser Perth, the Mayor of Redcliffe, and one of Arl Eamon’s personal knights, respectively.” Marcus informed precisely.

“And all this before nightfall, yes?” I asked once more to the group of misfits standing before me.

“Apparently so.” Marcus responded.

“Right then, time to work!” I exclaimed, getting up from my stool at the bar.

I saw that they had all started to follow, and I realized that I had almost forgotten the actual reason I was here…quite out of character for me, but I guess I had more thoughts rustling about in my mind than I could keep up with.

“Oh! No…you all can stay here for now. In fact, I insist, I have already ordered drinks for everyone. Isn’t that right Lloyd?” I called out to the innkeep.

“Wha—alright then…did you at least get us some rooms while you were here?”  
  


“Provided we, and this Inn survive the night? Yes, I have made a down payment towards the rooms, should that be the case.” I replied, now gathering my things to head out into the village.

“What are you going to do?” Jasmine asked me.

“ _I_ will be speaking to this Mayor Murdock and see what it is he needs prepared. Shouldn’t take long, very well could be back within the hour if all goes well.” I answered, providing all the information she required.

Seeming satisfied with my answer, all seven seemed to retreat to the bar stools to await their drinks, even Leliana, who, as devout as she was, was not about to turn down a free drink. All with the exception of Morrigan, she approached me as my back was turned ready to creak open the wooden door and let the light of high morning hit my face. She not only asked, but demanded that we go together, claiming she did not fully trust me not to run off at the first chance.

“So, when are you going to tell them. The new additions, I mean?” Morrigan asked, as we made our way across the rudimentary training fields the villagers had constructed in the middle of the town square.

“Tell them what, exactly?” I replied to her inquiry, already having a inking as to what she was going to say next.

“About _what_ you are…”

“All in due time, for now I think would serve to be greater a detriment than anything. But know this, I do not wish to repeat what happened back your mother’s hut. I want to tell them, now just isn’t the appropriate time.” I informed.

“And when is the “appropriate time?” She asked once more.

“When _I_ decide it to be so.” I replied, looking directly at her to make my point authoritatively, shutting down the topic promptly.

She simply laughed at my seriousness, and we kept walking throughout the town square.

“If I may, I might discuss something that might be of a more _personal_ nature with you?”

I glanced out of my periphery as we walked and I could see that she looked part way confused and interested at my directness. It seemed that her interest won out over her confusion and she replied.

“We are hardly alone, so privacy is not an option. It is your question, however, ask what you will.”

“You are a strong-willed and sometimes taciturn woman, Morrigan. So how would someone go about getting on your “good side?” I asked, partly to see her reaction, and partly because I was genuinely curious as to her answer.

From what my glances told me; she had almost cracked a smile at that. Silently amused at my questioning.

“Let us assume that this imaginary good side exists. What exactly would be the benefit for you to “get on it?” She questioned with a sly smirk on her face

“I would settle for a mere smile, actually.” I replied playfully.

“Oh? Do I not smile enough to suit you? How very negligent of me—” She stated, stopping in her tracks. Causing me to stop not too long after.

“Let me see. I would expect favor to come with a price. Perhaps you would be willing to pay a compliment? Is that too much, hm?”

I chuckled a bit, and began to think on it.

“Hard pressed though I may be, it would be possible, yes.”

“Hmm…you are beautiful and amazing, there.”

She looked up to the sky almost as if she was questioning it at my answer.

“I suppose stating the obvious will have to do.” She replied taking the compliment.

She smiled and answered,

“Very well, then. You are on my good side. Best watch your step that you don’t fall off.”

“Ah! Joyus day! Now, I believe we must be moving on, or the entire village will be consumed by the walking dead if we keep on like this."

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Still no sign of them coming from the castle, Murdock.”

“Tell them to maintain watch. I don’t want a surprise attack before the sun goes down.”

“Yes, ser. What should we do until then?”

“Pray. And hope for a miracle.”

We overheard two men speaking, at first, I ignored them, and continued pressing on. The name “Murdock” is what caught my attention, and so I eavesdropped a bit more to see what information I could gather before inevitably approaching the man himself.

“Murdock, I presume?”

“And you’re the one with the Grey Wardens, are you? I heard they all died with the king.” He replied in a low, gruff voice, as was naturally his own.

“Are you sure you didn’t hear that they _killed_ the king?” I replied.

“Could be that I did. We aren’t going to turn aside anyone who wants to help, though. Don’t take me for being an ingrate or nothing.” The man reminded.

“But to answer your previous question, yes. Name’s Murdock, mayor of what’s left of the village—providing we aren’t all killed and hauled off to the castle tonight.” He said, introducing himself formally.

I did not know what it was, but this man seemed to have a certain charm about him, he seemed caring, but stern when he needed to be, very fatherly.

“A pleasure, you may call me Silus. And this is Morrigan, another one of my travelling companions.”

I glanced quickly out of corner of my eye to see her reaction, and it was one that showed the briefest sign of emotion, and then gone, far quicker than it came.

“Fair enough. What can I do for you?” The Mayor asked us.

I decided that the best way to get this done quicker is to avoid my instinct to instruct, and simply try and offer myself to the cause as best I could. In my eyes, that was the first steps that would need to be taken on my long road to recovery.

“On the contrary, Mr. Murdock, I am here to ask how I could be of service.” I said, trying to ignore my ego for now.

“Well, we need what little armor and weapons we got repaired, and quickly, or half of us will be fighting without either. Owen’s the only blacksmith who can do it, but the stubborn fool refuses to even talk. If we’re to be ready for tonight, we’ll need that crochety bastard’s help” Murdock explained to us.

I found it very odd that a smith would choose _now_ of all times to be incompliant. There had to be a sufficient reason for a man of his craft to ignore a chance like this.

“Why does he refuse to talk?” I asked the Mayor.

“His daughter, Valena is one of the arlessa’s maids. So, he hasn’t heard from her since this whole business started.”

That explained why…though it was borne of exceptionally stupid reasoning.

“He demanded we attack the castle, break down the gate, and force our way in. I said it was impossible, but he wouldn’t listen. He’s locked himself in the smithy now. I can’t force him to do repairs…He says he’d rather die first.”

_Oh how overly dramatic…and stupid._ I thought

I rolled my eyes a bit behind his back as he was suddenly distracted by a sound over by the training area. Morrigan seemed to find that funny and let out a small giggle at my inward sarcasm. The Mayor quickly turned his attention back to us at the sound, and I replied.

“Alright, I’ll see what can be done.”

“I’d appreciate it. If he doesn’t help, he’ll die like the rest of us. What good will that do anyone then?” Murdock asked rhetorically.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Me and Morrigan promptly left Murdock to his other duties to see if we could resolve this quickly so I could maybe be back at the Inn in time for a relaxing afternoon drink. I knocked on the wooden door to the smithy with a respectful amount of force only to be greeted with…

“Go away, curse you! Leave me in peace! You’ve already taken everything out of my stores! There’s nothing left.” The man inside exclaimed thought the door in mixture of anger and sadness.

“Who’s in there?” I asked, not being able to completely ascertain _who_ was inside.

“I’m the bloody blacksmith and this is my shop! There’s nothing of interest here anymore, whoever you are, so you’d best move along.” The man, now known to me as the blacksmith, Owen once again exclaimed though the door, now full of anger at my continued persistence.

“Owen? I must speak with you! May I come in?” I asked, once again rolling my eyes, this time genuinely. I wanted to convince this frankly inept man to abandon this boycott and help the people of his village so I could be back in time to relax.

“Hmm. All right, all right, let me undo the locks. All that I ask is that you don’t make any trouble.” Owen replied once last time though the wooden paneling.

The stubborn man opened the door and stepped back, allowing us into his shop. I immediately took notice of the extremely strong stench of alcohol that seemed to stain the very stone here.

“So, I let you in. You asked to talk; now were talking. Mind telling me who you are?” Owen asked impetuously.

I waved my hand in front of my face to try and be rid of the smell to no avail. At his questioning however, I looked up though squinted eyes and said.

“Call me…Silus.”

“Anyhow, my name’s Owen…though you might already know that. Care to join me as I get besotted? Or is there something in particular you wanted?” Owen offered, pointing to his stash of assorted drinks.

“The militia needs your help, desperately.” I explained to him, probably something he has heard at least a couple of hundred times by now.

“Why should I help Murdock, when he won’t help me, hmm? Owen sassed.

“My girl, Valena, is one of arlessa’s maids and she’s trapped up there in the castle, but her mayor won’t send anyone for her. She’s been my life since my wife passed on two years ago. Now she’s dead or soon to be. I don’t care what happens to me, or the village, or to anyone.” The poor man explained though slurred speech.

I was staring to grow frustrated with his pity and self-loathing. It was always a trait I despised in those I met. But I decided to keep my cool and continue on civilly.

“You could work to help save her; you know?” I remarked, grabbing his attention back to me.

“I’m and old man. Everyone knows we aren’t making it through the night. Or are you going to save us?” Owen asked.

_There will be no one to save if you stay holed up in this shed all night!_ I thought to myself.

“I intend to try.” I replied flatly, making my intentions clear.

“Is that so? Huh. Maybe it’s the drink talking, but you almost sound like you believe that. Tell you what, if you want me to do repairs for Murdock and his men, promise me you’ll go into the castle and find my daughter.”

“If that is what it takes, then yes, I’ll do my best to find your daughter after the battle tonight.” I said, compromising with the best deal I was ought to get from him.

“Not good enough! Murdock said the same damned thing and I didn’t believe him, either.” He spat angrily at me.

I was about to lose myself for a moment at his tone, and then…

“You are asking a great deal, you wretched little man.” Morrigan spat back.

Gods blood…I wanted nothing more than to lift her up and kiss her right there. Although she said it a far sight less aggressively than I would have, she still made her point, and made it well…

I turned to her and let a wide grin appear on my face, the context of which she picked up on quickly and chuckled and looked down in trying to hide her laughter from the increasingly angry fellow in front of her, whom she had just insulted.

“I want a promise! Promise me you’ll look for her, that you’ll bring her back to me if you can.” Owen exclaimed angrily once again.

I was _always_ a man of my word. No matter what, it was all I had left in terms of honor. After everything I’ve done, after everyone I mercilessly killed…it was all I had. So needless to say, I was hesitant to make any kind of promise unless I could absolutely keep it. If I chose to do this, I would be bound to its command until I carried it out.

“I promise you: I will find her. Now tell me…am I lying?” I said heavily.

He looked deep into my eyes for a moment and I believe he saw what he was looking for, because his mood seemed to improve with new rejuvenation.

“No, no you are not. I’ll accept that. It’s something to hope for, at least.” Owen replied.

Morrigan seemed to be put out by the man and even more so by the fact that I decided to help him.

“Oh, lovely. Shall we next begin rescuing kittens from trees?” She said in a mocking tone.

Owen looked around his shop for a couple of moments and said with his back turned.

“Right, then. It seems I have some work to do, re-lighting the forge and I suppose I’ll have to find some iron. Hmm, maybe at the mill? Bah, Murdock just better send his men here as soon as possible if I’m gonna get to all these repairs and get them done by nightfall.” Owen said, talking to himself.

We decided now would be the best time we were likely to get to slip out of there, Owen now seemingly helping.

“So! The vile monster must save the princess from humble beginnings, trapped in the castle, against her will. What a twist!” Morrigan teased, as we made our way back to Murdock to inform him of Owen compliance.

“So it would seem…” I sighed out.


	20. Until Dawn

**Chosen Song: Unbound – Jeremey Soule**

Why…?

Why did any of this complete…nonsense have to happen to me? What did I do to deserve this? What did I do _so_ wrong that got me here? What sins did I unknowingly commit to earn my place? And what could I do to get out of it?

All of these questions buzzed about in my mind, or maybe it was the excessive amount of alcohol that I had been drinking for the past few hours? Upon checking, it would seem that had spent just about every coin I had left over on flagon-after-flagon of ale. It would also seem I had found success in my goal of inebriation. When I tried to stand from the stool that I had placed myself on earlier, I almost fell right back down to the wooden floors. It took a few moments to steady myself recollect.

I still couldn’t believe what we were about to do. If you had asked me a few months ago what I was going to do with my life, and made me guess, it would have taken me at least a millennium or more to tell you that I would be in this situation. Having recently escaped the horrors that were the darkspawn. Now Stuck in this village, stuck fighting the UNDEAD of all things. I turned my head to look out the window of the Inn, trying to find _something_ to shake my thoughts, and saw that the sun was starting to hang low in the sky now. Which reminded me that I needed to be down at the training camp… great.

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I made my arrival at the camp soon after exiting the Inn, trying my best to not obviously come off as drunk, my walking _felt_ straight, but I knew most likely wasn’t. I looked around the camp, and took in the sights and smells. The tough stench of body odor and sweat permeated the entire campground. The terrain was wet and muddy, and as the sun’s light grew fainter, and fainter, the mud grew colder on my boots. I was directed to the main war-tent where Bann Teagan apparently was. I caught sight of some of the others on my way too.

I saw Leliana, seemingly giving last-minute archery lessons to the militia members, if nothing else, then for the confidence factor. I saw Gerard sitting by Sten as he was hacking up a straw-filled training dummy, dog wagging his tail and smiling all the same. As I was about to enter the tent, I spotted Morrigan at sitting on a chair outside the tent was expecting her to spit a snarky comment my way, but all she said was,

“You look like you actually had some fun for once. Oh please, do go on in, Vlad has been waiting ever-so-patiently.” She said with a soft grin her face as she looked down at her lap and shook her head.

I decided to simply ignore her just go inside anyway, come what may.

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“—Were your men able to procure the oil from Owen’s shop?” Vlad asked officially.

“Indeed, and not only that, they were able to do as you said and pour the contents into the small trenches. It’s ready to be lit aflame at your word.” Murdock replied.

“Good--have men on standby with torches--I want it on fire at the very moment I order it.”

“And you Ser Perth? What of your knights? Are they ready?” Vlad inquired

“Absolutely, we’ve been ready, and with the Maker working though us this night there can be no fail!” The knight exclaimed confidently.

“Good, but remember, the Maker only helps those who help themselves, do _not_ count on him to pull you from perdition.” Vlad countered.

“Of course, Ser Cronvist. But can the fires even hurt them?”

  
“Yes, fire will kill them just as it would anything else, and from what I’ve heard, undead such as them have a hatred for fire, in particular.” Vlad informed

Vlad then turned his attention downward at the map of the village that was sat in front of him on the table.

“Yes…This is good, and if the barricades are sharpened, we will let them come to us, and they will either impale themselves on the barricades or live long enough to be burnt to a crisp. Those that do make it through though…that will be our problem, and we must _all_ be ready for it.” Vlad said looking around the tent, and finally catching sight of me, although I was almost certain he heard me enter.

“Gentlemen…excuse us for a few moments if you please, and be prepared for anything, the sun has almost retired it’s duties, from here on, anything could happen…be ready” Vlad said, and everyone, including Jasmine and Alistair who both seemed to be listening in on the strategies before I entered. As Alistair was about to exit, he gave me a sympathetic look and patting me on the back of my shoulder, and made his way out.

“Ah. Decided to finally join us, have you? Care to inform me as to why you took so long?” Vlad asked.

“I was at the Inn.” I said, blank faced, not letting up any ground to him.

“You were at the Inn, were you? And what were you doing at the Inn?” He asked once again.

“Drinking.” I once again returned with a face of stone.

“Drinking—you decided it would be a good idea to inebriate yourself before a battle?!”

  
I chose not to respond until I absolutely had to, and decided to let him keep ranting. But I could not lie, the loud noises did hurt my head somewhat.

We can't afford to act like fools, not now.” Vlad said intensely.

Vlad seemed to calm himself and then turned away from me for a moment, assumedly trying to figure out a way to do this diplomatically.

“You going to say something clever? Show me how much of a man you are with your one-word responses?” He jabbed.

“Go on, say something clever.” Vlad repeated, now polishing his metal staff.

“Just…stop.” I said lowly.

“What’s that?”  
  


“Stop trying to be my father. You’re not! You’re just a king who everyone has forgotten about, and are helping us for… Maker only knows why, probably just to kill us in our sleep if we’re being completely honest with ourselves!”

A long pause ensued and Vlad’s eyes turned a darkened tone as he stepped closer to me. It was then that I noticed just how much taller he truly was than my young frame.

“I refuse to be insulted by a weak-willed, drunken, overly-emotional, debutant who has no conception of what the _real_ world is like beyond his castle walls.” Vlad spat back defensively.

He seemed embarrassed with his outburst and quickly retreated his crass attitude. He looked nearly ashamed of himself, even. Up until now, Marcus had nary a chance to see any sort of truly human emotion peek out from behind his usually stoic and cold nature, but now was different.

“I need you to be ready… I have already lost one battle, and I won’t let your emotional breakdowns lose me another.” Vlad continued, still trying to deflect onto me. Though he referenced the _battle,_ that was not what he truly meant—he didn’t want to lose us like he did Duncan.

He approached me with a vaguely sympathetic look in his eyes, and laid his hand on my shoulder, showing no signs of aggression now.

“I need you to be the man your father wanted you to be, not in a year, not tomorrow, tonight.” Vlad said solemnly.

I looked down, silently giving him the signal that he’d taken the fire out of me.

Seeming to catch on to my lack of argumentative fire, Vlad exclaimed

  
For the next thirty to forty minutes, he went on about my role, and informed me of everyone else’s—it would be pivotal for the coming conflict.

“Now go out there, and show them who Marcus Cousland is! Not a hapless drunk, but a warrior who puts his life on the line to save those too helpless to save themselves!”

He said as he softly shoved me out of the tent, following his encouraging words. Although I did not agree with everything he said, he was right, I needed to do better, and if not for myself, than at least for my mother and father. Maker, what would they think of me now? Nearly abandoning all of these helpless people in the name of sweet ale. But now was not the time to stand about, the last of the sun’s light was fading, and with it, came the night of endless strife.

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**Chosen Song: Attack of the Dead Men - Sabaton**

Marcus POV:

As the sun lowered itself and the looming shadow of the castle grew larger and larger upon the nightly battlefield, I took position with Morrigan, Sten and my faithful war hound Gerard. Gerard was not allowed to fight in the battle at Ostagar, as they had not tested him yet, this would be his first real outing as a warhound, and it very well could be his last. I was reminded a time that seemed oh-so-long-ago now. When Gerard raided the larder at the castle, and it brought a smile to my face reminiscing on those days when nan would yell him for his banditry and bad behavior. Ever since father got him for me only a little over a year now, he had always shown himself to be smart, but tonight…he would have to show himself to be strong.

As the shades of pink finally faded from the clouds above and the navy hue overtook the sky above that, I eyed Vlad taking his position over by Ser Perth who himself was standing on the left side of Bann Teagan and Mayor Murdock standing to his right. I soon realized that since Jasmine and her team were on the backlines of the main force, I would not be able to get a glimpse of their action, not unless I abandoned position. And I did not know much about being a true soldier, but I knew that was the forbidden at the highest order.

From down below by the windmill, I could not see the castle gates open but could get a good look at the long castle bridge. Myself, Sten, Gerard and even Morrigan looked ready to face whatever would show themselves out of those gates.

She

Then, the gates opened, but there was no screaming, no orders to charge, just complete silence following the ominous opening of the castle gate. Soon, I could see them cross the bridge, falling over one another and running at a frightening speed, seeing who could get the first bite. The ones I could see crossing the bridge wore rusted armor and held broken and decrepit weapons, matching their horrible appearance well.

At Bann Teagan’s orders, Vlad gave the signal for Ser Perth’s men to charge, along with himself. Ser Perth, let out a loud rallying cry stating that _this_ was the last stand of Redcliffe, there would be no other chance. Vlad soon made his way to the forefront to assist Ser Perth’ and his band of knights with his magics. Fire, ice and Lightning flew from his staff in startling array of colors one could not even imagine, burning, incinerating, and freezing limbs off of many of the undead invaders.

Still reeling from the effects of the many flagons of alcohol I ingested, I had a vague sense of paranoia that some of the undead might find their way to us from behind or other some such worries. I looked around, and while I saw no undead stragglers, I did notice a distinct lack of Morrigan. She wasn’t here…she left. Amazing…I knew she would pull something like this when she got the chance…up and leave us whenever she knew she could, I was surprised that she even stuck around this long, after Lothering I was sure she was going to simply leave us, return to her mother, and find a new place to hide, but she had chosen now to leave us…perfect.

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Jasmine POV:

We were doing our best…

Arrow after arrow left my bow, yet, it seemed these foul creatures had no end. Alistair had kept those stragglers who forced their way through the frontlines away, but we could not hold like this forever. After the ditch-fires had been lit, it slowed them, but many forced their way through the fire, giving brief glimpse at true horror, a fast-running, undead corpse, that was completely covered in fire.

It took many arrows to finally bring peace to the desecrated body, and I was running out, quickly. A few moments later, as I was getting down to my last few arrows, I saw large raven with purple tipped wings fly right past me. It quickly exploded in a burst of violet magical energy and out came Morrigan. It was quite the shock to say the least. It would seem she really was the daughter of Asha’bellenar after all. Even Alistair seemed to take a moment of shock at her display of power, before resuming his guard. She said nothing to us and simply started tearing her way through the undead she encountered. One, by one, they fell to her displays of magical aptitude. Shocking one to death here, and eviscerating another with fire there, she carved her way, brutally though to the frontlines. I soon was brought more arrows by a militia runner and quickly started pulling from those to assist Ser Perth and Bann Teagan.

I looked to Leliana who was also pulling from new requisitions. She was flawless in her entire handling of the weapon. From her grip to her stance, in all truth, it made me admire her even more now as a truly respectable, and unquestionably fair, warrior-maiden.

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Vlad POV:

  
Mindless soldiers though they may be, a few hours of fighting them, one after another, does tend to tire oneself. And this hopeless, impractical, piece of metal was growing more annoying by the minute. Every few incantations it would just, fail. It just sputtered out a bit of energy weakly. But it was the only thing I could afford, and the only thing I could feasibly use this far away from the castle. But this useless metal pole would simply no longer do.

Although long famed for my endurance in battle, fighting nearly two-hundred zombies now, did take a toll on even my body. And my innate reserves had not been battle-tested in far too long, and it was showing.

As I heard Ser Perth’s orders to push forward, not allowing us to lose our bloody-bought ground, one Ser Perth’s exalted men had lost his awareness in the long night’s battle, had been forcefully tackled to the ground by a particularly large walking corpse, who was clawing feverously at his metal helm in hopes of gouging out an eye of ripping apart his cranium, exposing the meaty flesh underneath. Just then my eyes caught sight of a flash of purple magic, giant spider came forth from its residual, violet mists. It quickly perforated the earnest undead though it’s chest with one of its many large, spiked legs. The spider quickly threw it aside and bit, impaled, and separated the decrepit limbs of the walking dead.

This demonstration went on for some time, I simply observed its paradoxically horrible gracefulnessI did not much care, nor was I nearly as shocked as the Bann and Ser Perth were to see it’s sudden sppearence on the field, I had seen far stranger in my time. If the creature decided to turn on us, a second thought needn’t be spared towards its demise. I looked to the eastern horizon not long after to see the slightest signs of day. The night sky and the stars it hosted were becoming more, and more bleak by the second, and morning was soon to come, marking the end of this incursion.

The raging spider, soon stopped it’s murderous momentum after seeming to feel the fatigue of battle. The mauve mists enveloped the creature once again in a flourish of magical energy. And henceforth from the mists stepped…Morrigan? She made short work of two stragglers that were retreating to regroup in the castle.

I was surely confused for but a moment, but hurriedly my mind shifted to admonish myself for my oversight. If she was truly Flemeth’s daughter, whose powers I knew well, it would only serve logic that she would inherit such powers herself. Her mother had taught her the ways of shapechanging, a trademark of Flemeth and her supposed, numerous daughters. Even with all my knowledge of the magical, and supernatural world, my knowledge on the obscure magic of shapeshifting, was slim. Most of what I knew, came from Diaval’s research into Flemeth, at my behest. It was just one more detail that made her so effortlessly…alluring to me. Never had I been so hopelessly enraptured like this, even when I was a young man, I had always been collected…but this…it was like a spell. The sun had begun to show itself; dawn had broken and so ended the night of strife.

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Morning had graced the thatch-topped roofs of the thankful townspeople. The sun’s grace gaze poured upon the battle-weary heroes of the night, as they stood in tandem with the Bann of Rainesfere. The Bann was ecstatic at their victory over the darkness, but sorrow soon crept into his mind. Many were not so lucky as to feel the sun’s warm light shine upon their face this great morn, but such was the way, such was war…

It was time now to address the people, to console them, to encourage them, and to tell them that there was yet work to be done.

He lifted his arms in a good gesture of welcome, to his people he knew he was the only leader, it was time to upon himself that role fully.

“Dawn arrives, and we survived the night. We are victorious!” The Bann exclaimed happily

Loud cheers erupted from the crowd, many of whom, fought for the lives of themselves, and their families only a few hours ago.

“And though this victory came at great cost, we must remember none of us would be here were it not for the heroism of these good folk beside me.” Bann Teagan explained to a complex bunch of heroes, noticeably missing one member.

The Bann turned to address these savior’s accordingly, it was the very least he could do, this quick ceremony, while lacking in grandeur, meant as much as anything to him. These wanderers saved these people in need of help, at the cost of great peril, and have provided for him a possibility to save his brother.

“I thank you, good sers and ma'am. Truly, the Maker smiled on us when he sent you here in our darkest hour.” Bann Teagan gushed.

It was indeed odd to him. One of the most influential of this lot had utterly declined to be here for the celebration. But he, Silus as he was called, was not angry or perturbed in the slightest towards him, and just cited that he would like to be allowed to rest, so I obliged him.

Marcus, who stood at the forefront, was welcoming the praise. It reminded him of a simpler time, of tourneys and phony rivalries. Jasmine, on the other hand stood awkward, she did not know how to accept a compliment, let alone adoring praise form an entire village’s worth of people.

“I was glad to do what I could to help the village, and it’s proud people.” Marcus spoke up joyously.

“Let us bow our heads and give honor to those who gave their lives in defense of Redcliffe.” The revered mother said solemnly, drastically shifting the tone of the crowd.

Bann Teagan bowed his head and spoke to the crowd in front of him, signaling that it was time for them to do the same, and so they did.

“Murdock of Redcliffe, mayor and beloved father, we salute you.” Was all he could say, lest he become emotional.

“You and so many others who have perished here, walk with He who is your Maker. Long may you know the peace of His love.”

With her head turned to her feet, Jasmine added finally, silently saying her own solemn message to the elven gods under her breath, all the while the revered mother made her pleas to the Maker.

“So let it be.”

Bann Teagan lifted his head once again and turned his attention to the crowd beyond him, it was time to tell them of what was to come.

“With the Maker’s favor, the blow we delivered today is enough for me to enter the castle and seek out your arl. Be wary and watch for signs of renewed attack. We shall return with news as soon as we are able.”

After regaining his breath after his loud speech, he turned his head to band once again.

“Now, we’ve no time to waste. Gather your other compatriots, and meet me at the mill. We can talk further there.” The Bann ordered, earning an informal salute from Marcus, as they made their way back to where Vlad was resting, so that they may proceed…into the dreadful place from whence the monsters come.


End file.
